The White Wolf
by BIGT707
Summary: Jon Snow leads the free folk to reclaim the North as the King beyond the wall holding the duty of a Night's Watch first ranger guarding the realms of men. Jon Yara Euron and Moqorro sail west in search of Arya. In King's Landing houses of Westeros gather to discuss the future of their countries and kingdoms as a whole. Tyrion tells the Field of Fire story during Aegon's conquest.
1. The King Beyond The Wall

**A/N: I don't write these often but I'll say more characters will be reintroduced and the story won't be confined to beyond the wall and Castle Black. I'm taking this story across the world beyond Westeros. Enjoy the reading.**

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**XXX**

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The moment the wall gates closed locking him out of Westeros in isolation from the rest of the world a genuine smile spread across his features for the first time since he could remember. Suiting up a Ranger for the Night's Watch was something he'd always wanted. He could never be Jon Stark taking up the mantle from his father, that was always Robb's place. Instead he took pride in following Uncle Benjen's footsteps as the first Ranger beyond the wall. His father's words were always true. _'It's a great honor serving in the Night's Watch; Starks have manned the walls for thousands of years, and you are a Stark you might not have my name but you have my blood.'_ Another wide smile etched across his face breaking into a full grin at the memory.

"You gunna let me in on the joke or keep em' to yourself?" Tormund asked riding beside the ranger.

"Nothin's funny, just happy I'm where I belong." He said letting the smile's remnants fade.

"Damn straight, fuck the south, this is where real men live. The real north."

"Like you my friend?" Jon asked settling his horse to a slower walk.

"Who else?" Tormund questioned raising his arms boastfully, "I fucked a giantess drinking her tit milk, survived the dead, rode on a fucking dragon, and followed two kings of the free folk in my lifetime."

"I'm no king." Jon replied.

"Ah but you are Jon Snow, you're Mance Rayder's successor. He believed you when you saw the others."

"Aye the others are gone now."

"For the moment, they could return. Winter has ended, seasons end, nights always come."

Jon glared at the wildling lieutenant, "the dead are gone Tormund, the Night King is gone."

"And if they're not?"

"Then we'll be ready."

The traveling Free folk over three hundred men, women, and children rested at White Tree gathering small animals repopulating the forest and collecting any dried wood nearby for the long trip north. The villages south were destroyed beyond repair from the recent invasion, it would probably be the same everywhere else. Heading north was the only way to find out.

Jon slipped Longclaw into it's scabbard after a thorough sharpening in pursuit of a straggler wandering from the group. He followed the sound of twigs snapping coming to a boy around Bran's age when he left Winterfell for Castle Black the first time.

An arrow shot out of a bow missing it's intended target of a lone squirrel resting atop a tree scaring it off.

"You shouldn't wander this far from the group."

The boy turns around staring at him in a mix of shock and awe, "s-sorry your grace." He said kneeling at Jon's feet.

"There's no need for that, there are no kneelers beyond the wall." Jon said holding a laugh back recalling the first time he encountered Mance and Tormund standing in the boy's position.

The boy got up steadily unable to peel his eyes off Jon, "everyone says you're our king, we've all chosen to follow you now."

"That's kind of everyone but I'm not a king just a ranger of the Night's Watch." Jon settled for a solemn smile before speaking again. "If I teach you how to shoot arrows will you stop straying from the group?"

"You have my word your gra— I mean sir."

"Call me Jon." He shook the younger man's hand putting him at ease.

"I'm Oliver."

Jon nods walking toward the tree line relieving Oliver of the bows and arrows aiming at the trees. "Remember once you nock the arrow you need to pull your arm all the way back," he said tugging the string bending the bow, "make sure your elbows are locked in place." The arrow spikes a squirrel splintering the tree's face.

"Woah nice shot, perfect aim." Oliver said ripping the arrow and bloody squirrel out of the tree attempting to hand it to Jon.

"Hang onto it, this one's on me." He hands back the borrowed bow and arrow missing the feel of holding one.

"Thanks Jon." He said tucking arrows onto his back.

Jon nods walking toward the tree line, "Keep practicing and you will be a great marksman."

Oliver stopped himself from bowing, "I'll shoot everyday your—uh...Jon."

"Good we should head back Olly..." Jon halted in his tracks remembering his former steward plunging a knife through his heart. He shook the mental image of Olly swinging lifelessly from the hangman's rope.

A voice frees from his thoughts, "there you are Oliver, how many times have I told you not to stray too far."

"Talia," Oliver said slinging the bow onto his shoulder showing her the dead animal, "Jon taught me how to shoot arrows."

"It was nothing, I was happy to help." Jon said tucking his arms in the warmth of the cloak.

Talia knelt at Oliver's side speaking lowly to him keeping her eyes on Jon. Oliver waves to Jon earning one back leaving to join the group. "Sorry if he caused you any trouble he's always running off recklessly on his own."

"No, it wasn't any trouble at all, your son's a natural archer, he'll be a great one if he practices."

Talia covers her mouth slightly amused, "I'm not Oliver's mother. I am his sister." The brunette said standing closer to the ranger. "Our parents and elder brother fell at Hardhome fighting the others."

Jon sighed turning his gaze to her, "I'm sorry for your loss you two are strong for making it here."

"It's all thanks to you. You saved us when everyone else south of the wall wanted to see us wiped out."

"I did what I thought I was right." Jon rubs the aching scar on his chest over his heart recalling doing what he thought was right got him killed by his sworn brothers.

"That's why we'll follow you wherever," she met Jon's eyes, "everyone's talking about how you're our king now, the king beyond the wall."

Jon chuckled shaking his head, "I'm no king, just a ranger guarding the realms of men."

Talia couldn't hide a grin tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "the free folk follow you because you feel that way, they are right when they say you're not like the other crows, you care about us."

"Aye your not savage people like the rest of the world thinks, just the freest."

"And now so are you Jon Snow," Talia places her hands behind her back retreating the way she came.

"You know my name?"

"Everybody does." Talia disappeared before he caught her name, though he was sure he heard it earlier. She was right; he was free along with the free folk completing Mance's personal manifesto for his people that were now his. Jon fondly reflected on Mance's final words he spoke to him before his execution at the hands of Stannis Baratheon.

_Jon pounded on the door waiting to be led out of the stockroom turning to Mance for the last time, "I think you're making a terrible mistake." Jon knew what was coming, it was inevitable since refusing to bend the knee._

_'The freedom to make my own mistakes was all I ever wanted.' Mance said showing a real vulnerable fear of death everyone experienced._

"I didn't understand at that time but you were talking about true freedom weren't you?" Jon asked heading off to a particular destination he had in mind since arriving.

Longclaw split the snow in half as Jon kneeled holding the White Wolf hilt tightly resting beneath the massive Godswood. He shut his eyes releasing a chilled breath, "Night Gathers. And now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife. Hold no lands. Father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns through the cold. The light that brings the dawn. The horn that wakes the sleepers. The shield that guards the realm of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch. For this night and all nights to come." _'Kill the boy and let the man rise.'_ Maester Aemon's words proved true. He was resurrected for the purpose of reclaiming his childhood home, uniting the living to fight the others, and saving the realm from imminent destruction at the hands of his half-aunt and former love Daenerys Targaryen ultimately finding a silver lining in it all. The first time taking the oath of the black he kneeled a boy standing a man. At this moment he knelt a man rising a true veteran ranger of the Night's Watch and to the free folk the King of the 'true north.'

Jon sheaths Longclaw in it's scabbard meeting Tormund's band of lieutenants discussing their camp's current resources and needs. "Where the hell were you Snow? Taking a shit out in the middle of the woods?" Tormund asked.

Jon smirked joining the group, "it was a big one."

Tormund grunted in disgust, "I hope you at least wiped with your hand."

Jon shook his head appreciating the levity "what's going on?" He inquired to the group drawing all eyes to him.

"There are too few horses, we only have a little more than two dozen." Said Axel a former tribe leader of the horn foots.

Tormund grunted again, "we'll just have to catch some fuckin horses when we get out of the forest then."

"How can you be sure we'll find any live horses around?" He asked.

"Look around friend spring and summer are comin, along with it animals, last time I checked horses are animals."

"Tormund's right." Jon said surprising the group. "It's only been a few months since the others came. They herded through the eastern coast to Hardhome all the way to Eastwatch by-the-sea. The wildlife most likely migrated to Frostfangs northwest of Shadow Tower to avoid their path."

"I see makes sense," Brielle said tying her raven hair in a ponytail, "the squirrels are already here and we're not a full day's ride from the wall. I guaran-fuckin-tee you there are horses roaming around up north."

"That settles it then, we'll find horses after we get out of this forest, we will need em to cross the distance." Jon said adjusting his gloves glancing at the five free folk lieutenants. "I'm thinking of heading East to Storrold's point—Hardhome."

"Hardhome?" Brielle scoffed, "that place is a ruin like all the rest."

"Everyone died, what point would there be in returning?" Rowan a veteran solider questioned.

"We don't know that," Jon stepped toward the group, "the surrounding cliffs are abundant with caves, our people are survivors. It's possible they're out there."

Tormund shakes his head scratching his beard, "I highly doubt it, but what other choice do we have? Live in the fucking mountains?" He snorts spitting on the ground making his stance transparent.

Brielle sighed placing a soothing hand on her forehead, "you're right unfortunately we have to go back. What about food? I don't mean to be picky but squirrels won't last us until we reach Hardhome." She said folding her arms.

Jon glanced at the ground contemplating their options, "we head north of Craster's old keep gather food and fresh water on the banks of Milkwater. It will detour us a bit but it'll prove necessary."

The small group nodded in agreement heading off to pack their belongings and families for the day's trip. Tormund clasps Jon's shoulder when the ranger finished supplying his horse's saddle. "Mind telling me who that fine piece of ass staring at you is? Never seen her before." Tormund said looking in Talia's direction licking a palm slicking his hair back.

Jon met Talia's eyes from across the way. She offered a warm smile turning back to her friends in a faster manner. "She's very kind, just not my type."

Tormund bellowed a laugh, "I forgot you like pretty redheads, got plenty of those round here."

"There's no time for that, besides I can't take a wife or father any children."

"You're too honorable Snow it sometimes makes me sick. You could just easily stick your cock in em' for a night." Tormund grinned settling his own horse, "I also forgot you like em in southern dresses." He said leading the horse toward the group preparing to depart.

He pondered Tormund's words a moment more narrowing his eyes at movement beyond the tree line meters away. Jon rests a hand on Longclaw's hilt glaring at the spot he'd last seen the movement. As quick as it came the tension left his body seeing Ghost coming straight for him, "Hey boy," Jon runs his gloved hands over the dire wolf's fur clutching his face, "a bird? How in the seven hells did you get that?" The ranger asked picking remnants of feather and bone between Ghost's teeth. "At least I know your animal instincts are working, come on lets go boy." Jon climbs on his horse taking his place at the front of the herd with Ghost by his side leaving the abandoned White Tree behind.

The free folk huddled together crossing the Haunted Forest's territory faster than any time previously eager for the journey ahead. During Mance's reign there was never time enjoy with their loved ones. There was constant tension between the six sub groups of free folk: the forest dwellers, frozen shore tribes, Frostfang mountain Hornfoots, the face painted cave people, the cannibalistic Thenns, and the last of the giants was at an all time high due to the looming threat of white walkers. Since the long night passed the ninety individual tribes within the six subgroups were in a state of peace.

Next morning's sunrise was a sight to behold as the free folk climbed over the hill coming to the sight of where Craster's Keep stood before burning to the ground. Trees were chopped down around the surrounding area then hauled to carvers turning logs into timber for the keep's reconstruction. Jon's group set a few logs down collapsing from exhaustion. One at a time workers tapped Jon's shoulders leaving him atop the log pile. "You gonna work or just sit there all day Snow?" Tormund discarded two logs off his arms adding to the stack.

"Just-give me-a second." Jon heaved holding a hand out. The month of captivity in King's Landing hampered his stamina; swordplay would be fine, hard manual labor was an entirely different matter.

"Your offer still stands about this place?" Tormund questions sitting beside Jon pouring the canteen's contents on his face shoving it in Jon's hand.

"Aye the offer stands, ten families are staying behind to finish the keep and call it home." Jon raised the canteen above his mouth receiving droplets. He grunted tossing the empty container at Tormund.

"Can you two slackers move already, we have work to do." Jon and Tormund turned toward a girl of nearly eight holding her hands on her sides with a dagger for the purpose of carving.

"You get no argument from me." Tormund stood holding his hands up defensively getting back to work.

"Sorry about that miss, don't let me bother you." Jon said wiping a brow preparing to depart for Milkwater's banks a half a day ride from their position.

The girl's eyes resembled saucers staring at Jon, "your the king of the north." The girl spoke causing Jon to face her again.

"No," Jon smiled, "the north belongs to the Starks."

"But you're a Stark."

Jon furrows his brows unsure of what he was. Being Lyanna Stark's and Rhaegar Targaryen's child hadn't settled yet, he would always consider Ned Stark his father. All that mattered was his maternal mother Lyanna was not a southern born noblewoman, fisherman's wife, or a whore like he'd been led to believe growing up. The stories he heard of his mother were overwhelmingly great, she was a strong willed honorable woman. His maternal father Rhaegar was demonized in the stories saying he kidnapped and raped her hiding in Dorne contributing to the outbreak of Robert's Rebellion. Jon was less at peace with his Targaryen bloodline. Sharing both lines proved a gift and curse; in the end he chose Stark over Targaryen the moment he stuck a knife in his aunt. If he grew up Aegean Targaryen alongside Daenerys across the Narrow Sea it could have easily gone the other way. He recalls recoiling at Dany's proposed vision for 'the new age' she wanted to create. The once volatile pure Targaryen bloodline was wiped out, but the Starks lived on ruling Westeros. At this moment Jon felt content being a Snow wearing the title of bastard like armor like he always had.

Jon's smile grew, "I'm not a Stark, just a bastard serving in the Night's Watch." He replied. The young girl embraced the ranger catching him by surprise.

"You're more than those things to us, your our king, who we'll follow anywhere. You're the king of the true north—don't forget that."

"I won't." Jon wrapped a gentle arm around her for a moment, "make sure to watch over your family and neighbors. This will be a nice place to live."

"I promise I will." The blonde girl grinned happily getting to work. Jon smiled at the sight feeling pride course through his veins heading to collect his horse.

Ten families consisting mostly of children and old people said their farewells to the traveling caravan journey northeast. "Anything you need call on us, you have our word we'll turn this barren land into a thriving settlement." Joseph a former tribe leader said exchanging a handshake sharing mutual respect.

"I have no doubt you will my friend. I only ask Watchmen traveling through receive a night's rest and a hot meal for the trek up north."

Joseph nods agreeing to the terms, "it shall be done my king." Jon held himself back from renouncing the title of 'king.' Even If he did it wouldn't change much, he was bonded to the free folk the moment he let them through Castle Black's gates to safety and died for the act. So long as he held no crown and sought no glory in conquest he could keep to his oath.

The caravan waved to the families saying their final goodbyes until they vanished fading into the forest. The families turned to one another sharing embraces eager to begin their new lives building a community on ashes of the old. Their new king Jon Snow gave them a surge of hope they desperately searched for after Mance's execution. Joseph wipes tears from his eyes pulling his wife and daughter closer staring in the direction where Jon and the others left moments earlier, "damn you young ones, damn you." He said continuing the reconstruction of the keep.

Jon chugged greedily from his canteen hoping to rid of slight dehydration from the trip settling underneath a tree. Having to travel through the night until morning took its toll on them, they would need to recuperate for a day to complete the second half of their journey through the woods. The ranger threw his head against the tree listening to Milkwater's rushing stream releasing a ragged breath. Jon's eyelids fluttered closing on their own as his breathing evened out—he needed sleep."

**Bark! Bark! Bark!**

Jon's eyes snapped open to the sight of Ghost barreling toward him. "Ghost? What is it boy?" He hardly seen his companion move like this without threats present. "What is it Ghost?" Jon steps back from the frostbitten arm dropping from the direwolf's jaws. Time slowed as Jon took another step back tuning out Ghost's howls staring at the dismembered flesh. In a flash Jon was on horseback trailing Ghost through the forest at high speeds pushing his horse to the limit.

Tormund drops firewood into a large pile finishing his campsite pausing at the distinct sound of hooves pounding into the ground at a rapid pace. He sprints for his horse witnessing Jon race through the forest dodging trees in pursuit of Ghost.

"Snow where the hell are you running off to?" Tormund yells a distance away only receiving silence. He trailed Ghost and Jon's trajected path finally catching up to the pair, "you trackin something or what?"

"Shut up and follow me!" Jon said pulling on the reins tightly turning sharply hot on Ghost's trail west delving deeper into the forest straying from the caravan. Tormund didn't argue rarely seeing Jon this determined without a purpose, whatever bothered him was legitimate.

Ghost slowed his sprint entering fog as the trio came to a small clearing a few hundred meters from the river. Jon and Tormund hitched their horse following the direwolf on foot toward the field's center. It felt like an eternity before one of them moved listening to dead silence watching the mist dissipate. Jon was first to step forward passing his loyal companion who dropped the arm pedaling back towards Tormund.

Jon's arms dropped to his sides seeing the swirly pattern of half buried hands and arms decorating the snow. "It can't be..." Jon clenched his fists tightly swallowing hard glancing at Ghost and Tormund.

"For fuck's sake." The wildling lieutenant said placing a hand on his forehead in disbelief.

The battle against the dead wasn't over.


	2. Dire Strains

"I knew it was too fucking good to be true." Tormund marched toward his horse halting from Jon's iron clad grip holding his arm.

"Wait Tormund—"

Tormund yanked Jon's hold off meeting the ranger's glare, "wait for fucking what? The dead are back."

"We don't know that."

"Its the same symbol we saw before retreating to Winterfell—"

"You told me you found young Ned Umber dead and nailed to a wall; this symbol," Jon glanced at the slew of severed limbs, "it's different, it could've been here before the long night for all we know."

The wildling lieutenant shook his head turning away, "and what if it's not?"

Jon walked to the severed limbs circling the formation looking for any distinction, "look over here," he knelt closer examining the limbs, "these look any different then what you saw at the Last Hearth."

Tormund grabbed the nearest limb, "It's cold, frostbitten, a few weeks old at least. At House Umber the pieces were fresh." The rotted frostbitten flesh was easily distinguishable from fresh meat hours from dismemberment.

Jon nods standing, "that means whoever set this here wanted us to find it."

"Who would go through all this pretending to be white walkers?"

"Someone who wants us divided, fearful. Mountain Thenn remnants who defected from Mance's army after his death." Jon suggested.

"Aye I can't argue with that, I hate fucking Thenns, they could give two shits about the free folk even if they're one of us—They will eat anyone who crosses their path."

"Then their food source ran out and this is what remained which explains why they traveled this far south."

Tormund grunted skeptical of Jon's dismissal of the dead returning, "do you believe the others are really gone?"

It took a few moments for Jon to respond, "I'm not sure Tormund, but I'm going to find out." The ranger collects nearby wood and leaves tossing the contents over the symbol. "Come on help me burn this." Jon said as they got to work setting the dismembered carnage ablaze.

The pair rode in silent contemplation keeping their thoughts to themselves about the recent development. Tormund spoke the lone words of the trip thanking Jon for talking him out of telling the free folk caravan about their recent findings. The information would frighten the group moving forward breaking overall morale and resolve which they needed to complete their journey north. Tormund found Jon the most reliable crow he'd met, his duty bounded him to finding any validity to the others' reemergence—If they were truly back Jon would be the first one to declare it.

The caravan bended around the edge of Milkwater's furthest stream continuing their northeast trajectory to Storrold's point. Trees spread farther apart thinning out in the woodlands ahead. Jon stopped the free folk a mile from the edge of the halfway point of the forest leading to a few hundred meter clearing leading to the back half of the woods. The group set up camp resting in a secluded spot until the following day. Jon rested beside Ghost in his makeshift tent waking at constant nudging from his loyal companion.

"My king a word." The voice stirred Jon to get up emerging from his tent joining a large group of Hornfoots.

"What do you need?" Jon asked pinching the bridge of his nose regaining his bearings.

The group exchanged glances staring at their feet, "I know it's selfish of us to ask this but," Xander hesitates scratching the back of his head.

Jon understood the position of leadership at a young age. The nineteen year old now chief of the Hornfoots, leading others was a natural gift and a craft that had to be rigorously practiced to reap the benefits. "Its alright Xander take your time."

"Thank you Jon, it's just..." Xander steps forward surprising his tribe, "the Frostfang mountains have belonged to us Hornfoots for thousands of years, we would like your permission to head west and establish a settlement."

"Most of you are warriors we'd be losing a good bulk of our forces." Jon's gaze swept over the the group, "make sure you send a scout south to send word of your progress I'm sure you'll find horses on the way."

"Y-you're giving us permission?"

"Aye you never needed it, I'm just glad you told me." Jon said offering a smile.

As night fell at the temporary camp cups were raised and musical instruments harmonized with dancing throughout the celebration. For most the journey north was halfway over and everyone was safe having found peace. Jon watched the Hornfoot clans in their own section toasting to their return to the coveted Frostfang mountain range.

"To Jon Snow our king beyond the wall!"

"We're going home!"

"To freedom!"

"To family!"

Their words stirred feelings about his own home of Winterfell knowing it was in the best hands. He wasn't sure if he would ever return or if he was wanted there. It didn't stop his thoughts about the trueborn Starks and laments about Daenerys, his last and only connection to the Targaryen bloodline.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Talia," Jon pushed himself off the tree taking the cup she offered, "thanks I really needed this." The ranger resisted a cough downing the harsh liquid. "I forgot how much stronger this is than the Watch's ale."

"It's a proper northern drink." Talia said eyeing Jon behind her cup, "so what's the king doing all by his lonesome?"

"Being able to see everyone happy like this is enough for me." Jon couldn't help smiling warmly witnessing everyone's wild dancing around the several bonfires spread amongst the camp.

"Is it?" Talia asked standing closer to Jon. "You deserve time to decompress, isn't there a time when you're not on duty? When you're not a ranger?"

Jon shook his head, "the vows I took were for life, no matter where I go I have to hold to them or my word means horse shit." The only guarantees he had in life was his duty, name, and word, they were his core he had instilled in him since birth by Ned Stark himself—Integrity, honor, serving justice to yourself and others were at the forefront of his morales.

"You're a good man Jon better than most I've known, but even I know good men don't lie with thieves," Jon didn't hide his surprise when she drew closer, "I'm not your type of gal am I?" Jon's surprise grew as he drank the alcohol faster.

"What makes you say that?"

"Call it a woman's intuition."

He grinned meeting her eyes, "Tormund told you didn't he?" Talia laughed playing with a strand of hair, "what did he say?"

Talia's gaze softened unable to meet Jon's "he said you were in love with a friend of his a girl who was kissed by fire Ygritte." Talia immediately recognized the nerve she hit as Jon's features narrowed. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have—" The ranger's firm grip on her arm kept the brunette from fleeing.

"Ygritte," Jon spoke her name like a song, "was my first love; when I left Mance's group I figured she would kill me the next time we crossed paths." He finally met Talia's curious gaze, "I got to see her one last time..."

"...Did you do it?"

"No...In a way I didn't care if she killed me that night, all that mattered was that moment."

Talia sighed at the tragedy there was a recent one he suffered, "and the dragon queen?"

In all honesty he hadn't given it much thought forcing himself to forget the event in order to keep his sanity. It was terrible but necessary, no matter how he felt about it he did the right thing. "A mistake." He said. Talia places a palm on Jon's cheek kissing him softly as he shuts his eyes returning it slowly. She tugs on his cloak wrapping an arm an around his side while his arm encircled her neck pulling closer. The pair forgot their past staying like that for awhile enjoying the camp's happiness.

Jon rubbed his eyes waking up early the next morning just as first light peered through the tree line. He draped an arm over Ghost rubbing his stomach trying to no avail to wake the soundly sleeping wolf. "Come on up Ghost, no time to be lazy." He said patting his companion's belly waking him. The duo emerged from the tent meeting Tormund and other early risers sitting around a faint fire.

"Morning." Jon sat in the circle receiving low groans and half assed responses which was expected after the heavy night of celebrating. "Did the Hornfoots already set off?" He asked noting the camp was thinner than last night.

"They left when it was still dark out, they wanted a jump on the journey west." Brielle states clutching her forehead.

Tormund chugs the northern drink letting remnants drip through his beard, "Snow, I have something for you." He said pulling out a worn Watchmen cloak abundant with silky red stripes differing from the Watch's standard issue all black cloaks.

"What's this?" Jon questioned. He notes the color scheme's similarity to Targaryen sigil colors pondering a connection.

"When Mance died a few of us collected his belongings trying to find his treasure. We found this instead, this cloak was precious to him. That cloak used to be a ranger one similar to yours until Mance was gravely injured by a mountain cat hunting elk. A wildling girl nursed him to health repairing his cloak," he pointed to large red stripes decorating the black fabric, "she used scarlet silk originating Asshai her grandmother pulled from a cog washed up on the Frozen Shore. It was her grandmother's greatest treasure, it was Mance's and now it's yours—do with it what you will."

"I'll take good care of it, thanks for trusting me with it."Jon held the cloak running his bare hand on the fabric, there wasn't any silk that came close to it. He folded the new cloak placing it in his travel bag returning to the group. "You mentioned Asshai Tormund, that's a city far southeast of Essos."

Tormund shrugged, "I just know the name, haven't heard anything about it."

"Aye it's on the southernmost edge of a mountainous peninsula called 'Shadow Lands,'" Brielle said."

"That place is cursed." Axel inquired, "no one would be stupid enough to go there except merchants and traders not even Sothorian pirates will step foot in that place."

"Do any of you think it's possible to get there sailing west?" Jon asked.

The small group stared at him like he went bat shit insane, "hell no! People have tried to set up trading routes for hundreds of years only to fail." Rowan scoffed.

"Jon," Brielle called grabbing his attention, "sailing west in a death sentence. Even if you're able to cross the Sunset Sea which no one has done; to get to Asshai you need to pass through the Shadow."

"The fuck's that supposed to mean?" Rowan asked causing Brielle to roll her eyes.

"It means they would need to sail though the Saffron Straits where the Ash river meets the Jade sea—I've heard stories from sailors, people always leave only to never return."

Axel stood up surprising them, "seriously Brielle? What a croc of shit! We're busy discussing far away lands that half the shit said about is nonsense."

"Same was said about the others." Tormund spoke biting into a meat leg obnoxiously.

"And now the others are gone. We should worry about the journey ahead." Axel said leaving abruptly.

Jon and Tormund exchanged a glance as the wildling lieutenant shrugged giving him the choice to say something, he had his full trust.

Jon nodded in agreement they would need to get camp packed soon, "Brielle, thanks."

"Anytime." She said standing to greet her wife and daughter.

Jon witnessing the family reunion thought of one of his own silently praying for each of their safeties, especially Arya. He knew where Bran and Sansa were, he had no idea where Arya was but he was sure the assassin he still considered his younger sister wasn't in need of rescue. It didn't stop him praying for her safety.

The caravan resumed their march after mealtime to complete the journey within the coming days. Jon rode on the group's outskirts hovering around the middle formation slowing his pace making sure no one got left behind. He waved to Talia and Oliver riding ahead before turning to the vast woodlands wondering where Ghost was. The ranger rode on, Ghost could track him easily he always found a way back.

Snow hadn't been abundant in the forest like it had been before the Long Night. With the others gone ice receded from the woodlands leaving only perennial snow covering pockets of the land which could last for years. Ghost used the advantage of camouflage as a cover for years, he wore the advantage of blending into the environment like armor. Since the sudden snow recession camouflaging became more scarce exposing his cover to any potential threats.

The White Wolf sniffed the surrounding area ducking behind a fallen log surveying a rabbit scurrying across the way. The prey didn't have time to turn it's head being snatched between Ghost's jaws. Satisfied he trotted to nearby Milkwater bank feasting on the kill and drinking from the river. His ears perked hearing howls when leaving, paying them no mind Ghost continued to the Jon and the others.

A gray wolf trio stood to Ghost's side forcing him to confront them. The grays were outclassed in terms of size, Ghost was superior. The lead gray lunged only to be rammed backwards nearly falling off balance. Ghost stood proudly causing the other two to pedal back thwarting their plan of attack. Ghost growled clawing the lead gray wolf killing it scaring the two wolves deeper into the woodlands.

Ghost ran for Jon and the caravan halting at a feral snarl appearing on his path. A burly black wolf growled boasting an imposing build surpassing Ghosts. It's eyes reflected focus, determination, and confidence staring down the white wolf. They circled one another charging to kill quick and swiftly.

Jon slowed his horse's walk seeing the clearing through the furthest tree line ahead. He glanced in the forest's depths hoping to spot Ghost running for him. He shook his head riding on Ghost was better suited for survival in this environment than anyone. The moment his horse continued it's march Jon's eyes widened snapping his head in the direction of the woods hearing a pained shriek echo through the forest.

"GHOST!" Jon yelled scanning the nearby forest rapidly. Not a moment later he broke his horse from the caravan toward his companion's yelp weaving through trees finding him sprawled on the ground staining blood in the snow drawing heavy breaths. He immediately recognized the long claw mark on the left side of him. Jon dropped to his knees cradling Ghost in his arms burying himself in his fur, "hang in there boy, I gotcha." He said picking the limp body ignoring the pained whines sitting Ghost on his horse. Jon narrowed his eyes toward the howls and barking drawing closer by the moment. He fled from the area returning to the group.

Oliver, Talia, and Tormund greeted Jon when he returned horrified at the sight of a bloody battered Ghost.

"Jon what happened?" Talia asked resting a hand on Ghost noting the irregular wheezes exerting from him.

"There's a pack of wolves on our trail, gather anyone able to fight. If we don't stop them here they'll pursue us until there isn't anyone left."

Tormund nods, "don't delay the order, we will start heading to the rear." He said cutting through the crowd disappearing from sight.

"Jon let me help too! I can shoot arrows good just how you taught me—"

"No you're not ready," he said placing Ghost on Talia's horse, "but one day you will be." Jon faced the young lad, "can I trust you to look after my closest friend while I'm gone?"

"Yeah count on us Jon."

"I knew I could Olly." He said patting his shoulder assisting him onto the horse.

Oliver grimaced hearing Ghost's labored breathing, "w-what happened to him?"

Jon glanced at Ghost unsure of what happened but he had a hunch, "he ran into a bigger wolf." The ranger climbed on his horse mustering a smile, "thank you Talia."

"You'll never have to thank me, just come back safe."

"I will, stay safe." He rode to the front of the caravan halting their movement as he stopped in their path.

They shared glances giving him their full attention, "listen everyone! Keep moving, cross the clearing until you reach the other side and stay hidden!"

The front of the crowd chattered among themselves unsure of the present situation "what's happening?" Someone shouted from the group.

"We're being invaded by wolves and they won't stop until we deal with them. Keep going and don't look back, GO!" Jon barley had time to step his horse back as the caravan increased their pace heading to the edge of the forest.

"Quickly this way!" Talia waved directing the mob to the shortest escape route. Jon gave one last glance letting out a sigh of relief Ghost was on the doctor's medical cart receiving medical attention.

The caravan departing Castle Black stood at three hundred strong; since journeying north many families left the convoy to start their new lives building homes in the woodlands. The Keep's construction took ten families or roughly fifty people. The loss wasn't as significant as the seventy Hornfoots who were known as a warrior clan. Fighters were significantly fewer than when they began.

Jon halted witnessing four wolves darting toward the caravan's center aiming for easier targets. His need to protect others overrode the regard for his own safety as he jumped from his horse in pursuit of the wolves. A lone elder man was pulled from the crowd by his ankle hitting the wolf with his walking stick in an attempt to escape. Running out of time Jon grabbed the Watch's standard issue hatchet at his side throwing it toward them lodging it in the gray's neck.

"Thank you my king, thank you." He said as the ranger helped him to his feet.

"Can you stand? Keep moving." Jon directed the elder into the caravan as others assisted him continuing to their destination.

Jon sprints in the opposite direction of the fleeing caravan dodging people crashing into one another. Wolves ran from the south attacking toward their rear flank. Seeing a wolf charge from the side Jon slashes Longclaw hacking the top half of the wolf's head off before it could sink its jaws in a mother holding her child. He felt the long days on the road and hard labor pay dividends cutting through the crowd at a sprint spearing House Mormont's ancestral sword through a wolf's side tearing the blade from it's stomach decorating the ground in blood and guts.

Tormund pressed his knee into a wolf's neck punching it's face subduing the wild animal further. He dug his fingers between it's teeth tearing the mouth snapping the hinges of it's jaws. The lieutenant released a howl of victory feeling alive again. He stood up noticing Axel, Brielle, and Rowan on their horses weapon in hand with ten fighters ready for battle.

"Split up in pairs and we'll regroup near the rapids, this ends when we kill the pack's Alpha." Jon said jumping on his horse riding off at top speeds into the morning fog.

"The fuck ya standing around for?! You heard the man!" Tormund charged in a random direction followed by the others.

Jon sped past two charging grays leading them into position as he turns hundred eighty degrees going on the offensive. He reaches behind him pulling out a spear carved days earlier chucking it into a gray wolf's chest downing the animal instantly. The other gray ran past Jon circling ahead facing down the ranger biding it's time, letting Jon charge first. The gray evades the thrown spear lunging for Jon's neck. He didn't hesitate drawing Longclaw slashing the wolf's face in half grinding his horse to a halt. Shouts in the opposing direction of Milkwater broke his stupor as he wiped blood from his brow speeding toward the sounds.

Tormund bellowed a laugh slicing through two wolves using a padded forearm catching the third's jaw falling onto his back. He wildly shanked a jagged dagger into it's neck spraying blood in his face and soaking his beard. "This is too damn easy!"

"I hate to agree with you but you're right." Brielle shot three arrows lodging one in a gray's eye causing it to swerve crashing into a tree impaling the arrow through it's skull. "Where's Jon? Is he already with the others?"

"Brielle! Tormund! Have you seen where everyone else went?"

"No we heard shouting a minute ago, but it seemed to have stopped."

"I heard it too, we better get a move on and find the others." The trio rode through the forest finding Axel and Rowan kneeling at a wounded man's side clutching his gut in pain. Jon and the others stepped past several dead wolf carcasses standing beside their comrades.

Jon knelt by the wounded man's side recognizing him immediately as part of his group tasked with logging wood for their first settlement. "You doin alright Ismael?" He placed a reassuring hand on him glancing at the others remaining hopeful.

"I-I shouldn't be losing this much blood, I can't lose all this blood." He replied.

"Jon, help him." Axel said standing up unable to watch his agony.

"This all can't be coming out the side, too much blood. This way too much blood." Jon pried Ismael's hands off his stomach wound horrifying the others seeing a large gash squirting blood. "Fuck. Oh fuck. Jon help me okay? Something's wrong. Something's really, really wrong here, okay? I don't feel right. I just don't." Ismael threw his head against the tree trunk, "Jon, okay, this doesn't..."

Jon tightened his grip on his shoulder, "Look. You're going..."

Ismael jerked up in excruciating pain groaning from the slightest movement. Jon steadied himself placing both hands on Ismael's shoulders. "Relax. Listen, listen," he met his gaze, "you're going to die. That's what's happening."

Ismael's mouth fell agape as he shivered uncontrollably. "It's okay." Rowan said. Brielle didn't bother wiping fresh tears falling down her cheeks.

"No. No, no." Ismael a strong warrior who showed no hesitation entering a battle now feared his own mortality like anyone would in his position. "No, no, no, no, no. Wait, wait, wait. Hold on. Hold on. Hold on. Hold on. Hold on."

"It's alright. Look at me. Look at me." Jon said unable to calm Ismael's hysterics.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on. Hold on, hold on."

"It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. Look at me." Jon spoke firmer finally drawing Ismael's eyes, "keep looking at me."

Unable to accept his fate he shut his eyes, "It's all right. It's all right. Look." Jon held his hand on Ismael's head balancing him. "Look at me. Keep looking at me. It's alright. It will slide over you. It will start to feel warm, nice and warm." Ismael met the others' eyes before settling back on Jon. If there was one person who knew death it was their king, he'd given his life for their survival. "Let it move over you. It's alright."

Jon felt the man shake unable to feel pain anymore. "Let your thoughts go. All the good things. All the good things yeah?" There wasn't much time left. "Who do love?" Jon asked.

"Who do you love?" He repeated receiving no response after a few moments.

"My Mya."

"Is she your daughter?"

Silent tears spilled from Ismael's eyes, "s-she didn't make it t-this far...She's six."

Jon nods keeping his gaze locked on him, "Let her take you now. Let her take you." Ismael tore his gaze away from the others staring at the gray sky convulsing rapidly.

"It's okay. It's okay." Rowan and Tormund placed their hands on the exposed wound staying until the end.

Brielle didn't hold back her tears giving into her emotions placing a hand on top of theirs. Ismael stilled releasing a steady breath, "wait for me." He whispered. The group watched bowing their heads paying him a final respect for defending their own.

"Did he just fuckin die? He just fuckin died didn't he?!" Tormund snatched Axel by his collar lifting him off the ground.

"Shut the fuck up or I'll make you wish you didn't open up your cunt mou-" Axel and Tormund stumbled back due to Jon shoving them apart.

"Is this everyone?" He asked.

Rowan nodded hesitantly standing, "the others that were paired up banded in a larger group in search of their leader."

"Then we go after em, it's best if we leave our horses here." Jon hitched his horse restocking the hatchet supply.

"I heard horses fleeing toward the river when we first arrived, the leader has to be around there." Brielle said. The group ran toward Milkwater's rapids further inland.

Nearby howls stopped them in their tracks forcing the group to circle up. "Damn this morning fog, can barley see shit." Axel snorted gripping his spear tighter.

"Stay alert they could attack anywhere." Jon replied. The five combatants huddled back to back looking in all directions.

Axel crashed to ground yelling in terror at the wolf biting into his shoulder. Rowan swung a shotel sword falling onto his back feeling a finger break from the impact. Brielle, Jon, and Tormund dispatched the wolf stabbing it to death. Axel flipped over in a frenzy chopping at the wolf carcass. "You moutherfucker! Try sneaking up on me again!"

The group chuckled, "alright enough Axel I think you got em." Jon said kneeling next to the deceased wolf.

"What is it Jon?" Brielle asked. She knew him long enough to know whatever he was thinking of wasn't pleasant.

"This doesn't feel right, the wolves we killed were Omegas."

Axel let out an exasperated sigh shaking his head, "tell me that's something good, the omegas are the strongest behind the alpha right?"

"No. They're outcasts usually elderly and sick traveling in the pack's front. The alpha was testing us—He's drawing us right to him."

"Then what're standing around for holding each other's cocks lets get a fuckin move on. I'll make a nice winter coat outta the alpha." Tormund headed toward the inclined ravine less than a hundred meters ahead.

"This is it!" Rowan shouted peering over the edge of the steep hill, there wasn't any other way. Getting back up wouldn't be a problem, descending is another matter entirely, "I can hear the river from here!"

"Then there's no time let's go down now, we need regroup with the caravan soon." Jon turned to the others, "who wants to go down first?"

"I'll go." Rowan said clutching a nearby tree side stepping down the decline slowly followed by Tormund and Brielle trailing his path down the steep hillside.

"You want to go next?"

"No you go ahead Jon."

"You sure?"

"Yeah I just need a minute something about heights..."

Jon nodded, "don't take long." He said beginning the descent.

Axel shivered pacing the area trying to no avail to control his breathing; Ismael's death made him want to puke. He glanced down the ravine noting Jon and the others barley a quarter the way down. Axel walks to a nearby tree taking a piss checking every direction. A large gray clamped it's jaws on his throat as he turned to follow the group. His attempted scream was silenced by another wolf biting through his face.

Jon halted staring at the top of the ravine hearing rustles in the distance, "Axel stop fucking around. Axel!" Jon ran up the hill hatchet in hand. He grimaced standing over Axel's corpse already turned blue from major blood loss.

The group caught up with him disturbed at the loss. Tormund struck a tree hard splintering it in half breaking a knuckle the last words he said to Axel playing over in his head. "This is wrong." Jon said.

"What do you mean?" Brielle asked.

"I know wolves, I've grown up around them my whole life—They don't do this." Jon places Axel's cloak over his half eaten face. "These wolves kill for pleasure. We aren't dealing with Omegas anymore. The ones that got Axel answer directly to the alpha. They must've had eyes on us since we got here, and waited until one of us was isolated, vulnerable." Jon's grimace deepened as he said a silent prayer over the fallen lieutenant. "The betas didn't give him a chance, they want us to know we're being watched."

"Maybe if we leave they won't pursue us we'll have the numbers and gather the rest of the forces." Rowan suggested.

"Don't be fuckin stupid we're slaughtering all these fuckers."

"Tormund's right they won't let us go, if we run they'll track us to the caravan killing as many as they can regardless of our numbers." Jon said. Nearby barking put the group on edge forcing them back down the ravine. The wolves growled fiercely sliding down the hill pursuing their prey.

"Run for the river!" The group split up on Jon's command evading the wolves during their descent. One by one they fell due to the steepness rolling down the hill at high speeds as the wolves gave up the chase retreating. The survivors broke through branches, skimmed over rocks, crashing hard into piles of snow at the bottom. Jon, Rowan, and Tormund scrambled to their feet shouting for Brielle.

Brielle placed a hand over her forehead unable to feel any movement beneath her waist. She smiled warmly reaching out to her daughter standing above her. Brielle chuckled feeling soft hair caress her face softly embracing the warm surrounding.

"Brielle!" Jon shouted noticing her body dragged behind a tree. "Brielle hold on!" Jon sprinted raising the hatchet above his head piercing a wolf's side scaring the other one off. Rowan and Tormund threw daggers impaling the mortally wounded wolf finishing it off.

"By the gods..." Rowan puked witnessing Brielle's missing leg and a large chunk missing from her side. Tormund cursed to himself walking away from the carnage unable to see his friend in that state. Jon sighed heavily resting Brielle against a nearby tree trunk brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "What are we going to tell Elena and little Ivy..." Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose tearing up. "Oh god this is so fucked up."

"We tell them what happened. Brielle was just as tenacious and brave as anyone. She died protecting her loved ones and the people she cared about." Jon placed a hand on her shoulder paying final respect.

"We finish this now," Jon said joining the duo away from their deceased comrade, "the river's just past those trees ahead; we follow it until we find a crossing."

"Then we kill that alpha cunt."

"Right, let's move."

Rowan hissed clutching his bleeding hand glancing one last time in Brielle's direction before pressing on trailing the duo. Jon halted along the rushing rapids arching a brow at Tormund lagging behind with a slight limp. "Tormund," Jon called, "you doin alright?"

"I'm fine don't give a shit about me little crow." He grunted grabbing onto Rowan for support quickly shoving him aside, "back the fuck up I don't need help!" Tormund collapsed onto a knee unable to suppress the pain any longer. Jon and Rowan carried him further settling him on a log.

"Easy, easy." Jon said holding his hands up defensively touching Tormund's left ankle causing the lieutenant to raise a fist restraining himself from striking Jon.

"Ah ya fucking cunt!"

"How did you make it this far? You're one tough bastard but you won't make it much further with that ankle." Jon stood up contemplating their options. "Come on we'll carry you to the horses."

Tormund shoved Jon away, "I told you Snow I don't need any help." He grunted shifting against the fallen tree, "get going and kill that fuckin alpha wolf already, I will just...Wait here awhile."

Jon turned away slightly frowning, "try making it back to the horses if you can."

Tormund shook his head, "wipe that look off your face, you're the king beyond the wall," Tormund bowed his head for a few moments meeting their gazes, "we both knew I had to die sometime." He shakes Jon's hand recalling the first time they'd met, how times had changed since then.

"Wait here, we'll be back after we kill the Alpha." Jon said patting his shoulder.

"Sure you will, now get going." Tormund watched the king of the north exhale hoarsely before nodding leaving him behind.

Tormund laughs listening to the rushing river ignoring the numbing pain creeping up his leg. Two betas appeared grabbing Tormund's attention just as he chugged the last of his alcohol. "It's about fucking time, I'm going to rip these fuckers' guts out with my bare hands." Tormund juggled two identical daggers glaring down the charging enemies releasing a war howl.

"Are you sure it's okay to leave Tormund."

"Don't worry he's too stubborn to die, focus on the task." Jon points to a large fallen log down the river. "We cross there, the alpha shouldn't be too far after that."

Rowan sighed, "you're right Jon, your right—" Barks forced the pair to run from two beta grays flanking them. Jon ran through the snow intending to make it to the log unaware Rowan fell behind ambushed by both wolves. He yelled falling into the rushing rapids flailing desperately unsure of the danger posed.

"Rowan hang on!" Jon avoided the wolves sliding on the bank's ice into the freezing water pursuing his comrade down river. Rowan slipped underneath the rapids unable to swim to surface grunting in pain feeling his foot pinned between rocks.

Jon held onto the log noticing Rowan submerged beneath the water. Rowan's hands broke through the rapid's surface gasping for anything holding onto Jon. He felt an unrelenting pressure on his foot holding him back from swimming against the current to freedom. Jon glanced at the log lifting Rowan up using all his strength realizing it wasn't the fallen tree pinning him.

"Rowan what the fuck are you doing?" Jon pulled harder using the log blocking their path as leverage.

Rowan thrashed around his arms wildly forcing Jon to pull again unable to budge him. There wasn't any other choice the man would drown if he did nothing. "Hold your breath!" Jon dove underwater providing air to Rowan's lungs. Rowan panicked feeling water enter his lungs thrashing his arms above the surface screaming to Jon his foot was trapped.

"Hold your breath!" Jon dove underwater trying again only for Rowan to start convulsing panicking at the thought of drowning unable to keep the water from the filling his lungs.

"Gods don't do this!" Jon pleaded trying desperately to raise Rowan's mouth out of the water inches away. The ranger let Rowan go feeling him stop his convulsing going completely still.

Jon rested on his knees climbing out of the stream staring up at the gray sky. It took the lives of his lieutenants to be able to make it here, he couldn't save a single one of them. "Is this what you wanted?!" Jon yelled toward the sky. "Is this what you brought me back for?! Fuck faith! Earn it! Show me something real! I need it now! Not later, now!" Jon bowed releasing a deep breath nodding to himself, his prayers would go unanswered, it wasn't like he didn't expect it. "fine I'll do it myself." He said rising to his feet into heading into the forest in search of the alpha.

It didn't take long until he stumbled on one of the warrior's corpses who bravely volunteered to fight. He pushed onwards ignoring the howls growing louder with each step he took. It wasn't long until he came to a small clearing decorated with human skull and bones. Wolves surrounded Jon forcing him to center of the field staring at a hillock at the edge decorated with a freshly eaten corpse.

"It's the fuckin den..." Jon said. The ranger dropped to his knees staring down the alpha wolf glaring down at him rising from the hillock showing it's dominance. The black direwolf was bigger than any he'd heard about surpassing Ghost's size. This thing couldn't be a direwolf, the way it methodically attacked them targeting the caravan's scout, tracker, and strongest ally Ghost. Sending the weak and sickly wolves to test them. Sending the strong to pick them off trying to instill fear in each and everyone of them. Was this all part of this wolf's plan? The more Jon thought about it the more he was convinced this thing wasn't an ordinary direwolf. It felt like a physical manifestation of his Targaryen bloodline staring back him; the untamed anger, lust for power, and show of dominance.

The Alpha growled fiercely scaring the wolves away glaring into Jon's gaze. Just by the stare he could tell this alpha had been battle tested hundreds of times showing no outward fear of man. He could almost laugh at the irony life bestowed up. Growing up believing he was the bastard son of Ned Stark, a snow. Being born Aegeon Targaryen heir to the Iron Throne during it's reign. Falling in love with the enemy becoming closer to anyone he'd ever had before only to watch her die in his arms. Killed by his sworn brothers for sticking to the beliefs instilled in him since birth branded him a traitor by the old guard Watchmen. Believing in a false prophet to save Westeros betraying her for love after she succumbed to their family's madness. Separated the from the Starks he considered family that he loved deeply. Had all of those trials lead to him to die in a fight with this alpha?

Jon detached Longclaw's scabbard on the ground drawing the Valyrian sword and pulling a hatchet from his hip returning the alpha's gaze halting it's tracks for the first time. It finally dawned on Jon; he wasn't coming here to die, he was came here to prove to himself he was alive. Life in the world was worth living, there were the people that believed in him he needed to get back to. He wanted to see his family again some day. He wouldn't die today. The Alpha took a slight step back showing some semblance of trepidation noticing something dark brewing beneath Jon's eyes. Without a moment's hesitation they charged at one another coming to blows.

**—**

**XXX**

**—**

"Is that them? You said there wouldn't be any women or kids." A gruff man said standing beside his leader. The pair watched Talia leading the caravan across the clearing to the other side of the forest.

"It doesn't matter. The ones we don't eat or kill we'll rape." The Thenn leader licked his scarred lip in lusted excitement, "it seems the king of the north is absent, this just made things easier."

"Perhaps." His subordinate said watching the free folk hurry to safety.

"Gather the others the time to move is now."

"Y-yes very good sir."

The Thenn leader grinned placing a heavy axe over his shoulder, "come out to play the king beyond the wall."


	3. Silver Linings

Jon rested his head on the alpha wolf's belly feeling it release a final breath welcoming death. The remaining wolves huddled tightly around Jon gently nudging and licking him. He understood their oppression at the hands of their alpha. They didn't want to kill each other, the groups suffered losses on both sides. The pack were free to choose a new leader to follow. Jon petted their heads knowing they made sacrifices in order to get him to slay the alpha. The wolfpack released a series of howls leaving the ranger alone.

Jon stood wiping the blood and dirt from his face trudging back the way he came. He shook his head passing Rowan's submerged corpse lamenting collecting their dead. Coming to a familiar sight along the river's shore a smile crept across his features.

"I'll be damned, I thought you died again." Tormund said resting against the log.

"same to you my friend."

"Rowan didn't make it did he? Otherwise the fucker would be with ya."

"We're it."

Tormund laughs sitting up, "It's like I said before we're gods immune to death."

"I'd agree with that but I died already." Jon said hoisting Tormund to his feet lending him support for the climb up the ravine.

Tormund bellowed a laugh again halfway up causing Jon to arch a brow, "I really thought that was the end for me back there, know what I thought about?"

"No what?"

"I was thinking about rolling in the hay with that big knight woman who guards the king in the south."

"Brienne of Tarth?"

"Ah that's the one! I pray to the old gods every night to send me a woman like that up here. The next time you go to Winterfell I'll tag along in case she's there."

"Winterfell is the north, I don't think she'll travel there anytime soon." Jon said using a tree as leverage to combat the hill's steepness.

"With your brother being from there he'd go back—"

"Tormund," Jon halted their ascent more than halfway up, "I'm not returning to Winterfell I'm not a Stark...Winterfell belongs to... Sansa, it isn't my home."

"you were raised there no?"

Jon supported Tormund past the a row of boulders leading to the top, "Aye it was my home growing up but now I'm not sure I'll be wanted. I caused the Starks enough trouble, their lives will be better without me."

Tormund stopped Jon clutching his shoulder, "you're a good leader Snow, though your a shit liar. I made the mistake of staying away from my family because I assumed they hated me." This wasn't easy to discuss Tormund rarely mentioned his loved ones. "Don't make my mistake, even if your family hates your guts, you still owe it to to do everything you can for them like you have for us..." He smiled punching Jon, "stop brooding Snow, I can tell they love you more than we do."

Jon assisted Tormund on his horse whistling for his own. He recalled his departure from the Stark family at King's Landing before rejoining the Watch. At that time it felt like a farewell—permanent. Despite their feelings toward him he wanted to see them again, however the probability of that happening was extremely low. Jon broke free from his thoughts remembering the last place his eyes roamed before turning away unable to look back. "Thank you." Jon said climbing on his horse, "you'll be the first to know when I return."

"That's the little crow I know." Tormund said walking his horse the way they came. Jon smiled imagining the reunion with Arya, Bran, and Sansa. He wasn't sure he would be able to separate from them again. "Friends of yours?"

Jon glanced at the wolf pack watching them in the distance guarding the territory "We don't have to fear them, they're allies now."

"I don't know how you do it Snow. If it were anyone else they would've skinned every last beast." Tormund gave Jon shit almost constantly, that was who he was. He also respected Jon more than anyone being the first to declare him king beyond the wall. His respect grew for their leader witnessing the wolves' alliance with him. Jon's most impressive quality wasn't his fighting prowess, it's the uncanny ability to rally others to fight beside him rather than for him—The rare trait made him a king. Tormund watched in awe as the wolves vanished into the forest leaving them alone.

"We need to hurry to the caravan, we'll bring others back for our comrades." Jon said. The duo corralled their comrades' horses riding toward the original path. The duo stopped at the forest's edge hearing screams and shouts across the clearing. They wasted no time racing to the scene leaving two dozen curious eyes behind.

Jon cursed pushing his horse to the limit causing the animal to grunt, "come on girl a little further you can make it." He gave one last push hearing the screams from the caravan clear as day as they spread through the woodlands.

"Where are you going pretty lady? The fun's just getting started." A wild Thenn shoved a young woman against a tree pushing up the furs covering her mouth muffling screams, "I know you can scream a lot lou—" The grunt slumped releasing the woman clutching a wooden spear protruding through his neck.

Jon grabbed the spear picking the woman up placing her on his horse, "Are you alright miss?"

She nodded still shaken flinching at the agonizing screams nearby. Tormund rode past them slashing through the enemy forces pushing their way ahead. "Ride east to the end of the forest, tell anyone you see on the way the same." He said strapping his travel satchel to him tucking the spears down his back. "Can I count on you?"

"Y-yes count on me." She spoke finding her voice.

"Thank you."

"No thank you Jon." She watched their king in amazement clearing a way through the hostiles before riding off.

Jon tackled a Thenn to the ground slitting his throat from behind flanking the rear of the enemies' formation. His hunch was correct Thenns were aiming to loot, rape, and kill them preserving their group. It would prove difficult counterattacking their advancement; they were short on fighters and Thenns were considered among tribes as the fiercest and most organized. The ranger caught sight of a nearby archer shooting randomly into the fleeing crowd slowly creeping behind him.

"More arrows! I'm running low." The archer glanced to where his spotter lay in a pool of blood. "H—" Jon muffled the attempted warning burying the hatchet in his skull.

He picked up the bow and arrows running to the nearby hillock taking a step back at the sight before him. The caravan was spread throughout the trees scrambling to safety from the Thenn's closing in. Bodies flew over one another, severed limbs and blood could be seen from where he stood. Jon wanted to curse the heavens losing himself in anger. Releasing a deep breath he stayed composed focusing on saving lives and evacuating his people.

Tormund rode through the crowd slicing through the Thenn frontlines charging onwards. The remaining warriors seeing the lieutenant alive regained focus holding a line of defense. "Get the fuck outta here! Go east!" Tormund shouted to a nearby group standing out in the open. Noticing a woman on Jon's horse rallying others to escape he jumped from his horse biting the urge to clutch his ankle. Tormund picked an elderly man sitting against a nearby tree putting him on his horse.

"Can you ride old timer?"

"I'm n-not sure."

"Good gather everyone you can find and follow that girl." Tormund said pointing in the last direction he saw her, "get going."

"Wait," he grabbed Tormund's sleeve, "please find my wife Edna s-she won't make it far without me...We haven't separated for fifty seven years."

Tormund nodded watching the man leave, he grunted being rushed from behind. He quickly turned double axe slamming the grunt onto the ground stomping his head repeatedly crushing it like a melon. Full of bloodlust Tormund pulls out twin khukuri blades charging into the fray.

Jon kicked a prone archer in the ribs flipping him over, "I'm asking once, you don't answer I shoot." He held the bow string tightly picking a spot, "where's your leader?"

"Y-You're him, the king beyond the wall."

Jon pulled the bowstring tighter aiming for an eye socket, "where is he?"

"I don't know...His group are in charge of ransacking your supplies..." The grunt said dragging a hand toward his side.

"What's his name?"

"Horace the chained." Jon shot an arrow into the archer's eye evading the throne dagger. Once the archers were dealt with Jon continued attacking the enemies' flank tossing the arrow-less bow aside, unsheathing Longclaw driving it through a grunt's back forcing parts of his spine through his stomach. Jon ducked under a wild sword swing parrying the next man's attack using it's momentum to fuel his own, slashing him from ear to waist throwing his crumpling body into the end of his comrade's sword.

The Thenn backed away away snatching a bystander placing a dagger against his throat, "one more step and I'm gunna gut this boy."

Jon put his telltale sword away raising his arms, "let him go," Jon unclasped the strap dropping the spears, "I'm unarmed, you'll have an advantage..." The ranger noticed wobbling in the grunt's knees. He must've known who he was; Jon would never get used to seeing outwardly fear toward him from enemies. Noticing blood trickle onto the blade Jon darted his eyes one way drawing the grunts. A hatchet lodged itself between the hostile's eyes before he could blink. It didn't surprise Jon one bit. He was taught early in life being scared in a battle was normal, it was a catalyst for bravery. However being dumb and indecisive too was a surefire way to a painfully quick death.

"Let me fight Jon, I can't run when we're getting slaughtered."

Jon strapped his satchel on securing his weapons, "pick up that hatchet," he hands the teen a spear, "you hesitate, you die." He said releasing it running toward the crushing crowd ahead.

The free folk's main caravan scrambled through the western front heading east while holding a withering line of defense. Some desperately searched for an escape route, others fought for their theirs lives as well as their loved ones to the end. Their numbers diminished down to two-thirds the amount that crossed the clearing. Despite the enemy having fewer than half their numbers now, their fierce tactics and superior weaponry impeded them significantly.

Talia left Ghost's side leaving him in the care of their doctor. Since the raid began Oliver disappeared leaving her in charge of evacuating as many folks as she could, losing friends along the way. The Thenns held no compassion killing in grotesque manors predetermining which body parts to eat first. Pleas from their clan brethren were shunned outright claiming them to be inferior by following an outsider.

She didn't think it were possible to hear the type of guttural screams coming from a person. Talia picked up a jagged dagger running past crowd attempting to find her Oliver.

"Bring me those two." Horace pointed at the children held in their parent's arms. Their father stood protectively in front of them being grabbed instead. Horace grins behind the skull mask decorating his face's top half, "now watch closely folks, this is what happens to heroes in this world." Horace drove the axe through the man's head repeating the action until skull fragments remained drenched in blood.

The mother whispered to her kids kissing each sending the pair away. "Go fetch them." A grunt pursued the brother and sister through the woods enjoying every second.

"Come on this way." The elder sister held her brother's hand tightly dragging him along, "hurry."

"Stop running kids, I just want to play. Don't make me catch you!"

The pair bumped into Jon who caught them in his arms, "where did you two come from?" He could barley hear the words through their tears. "Listen you're not yet, see that path there," He said pointing east, "I need you to be brave again, can you do it?"

They nodded wiping their eyes, "what about you? Where will you go?"

"I'll be right behind you guys. First I have to stop the bad people hurting ours."

"The bad man's that way—" the boy held in sobs pointing the direction they came.

Jon placed his hands hands on their shoulders, "I'm proud, you're much braver than I was at your age, now hurry and no looking back until your safe."

"Thank you." They said running the way he told them. Jon watched until they were far enough following a nearby voice.

The grunt solider peered through a bush trembling from the sight of Jon standing feet away glaring directly at him. He trips over his feet falling to his knees unable to scream due to Longclaw's Valyrian blade protruding out his mouth. Jon kicked the lifeless body off his sword turning sharply hearing Talia screaming to be released.

"It's a shame I'll have to kill this one, she's almost too good to eat. I should eat her face to commemorate her beauty, bring me her head first." Horace said draping the heavy over a shoulder. The Thenn leader didn't want to waste time in this chaos, the caravan would eventually succumb to their losses.

"You're nothing but twisted thieves and cannibalistic murderers! A disgrace to our people!"

Horace raised a hand delaying the Talia's execution, "you've gotta mouth on ya woman. You call us a disgrace when you follow a crow outside masquerading as the king beyond the wall."

Talia bowed accepting her fate, "Jon Snow is the king of the free folk now until our dying day." She locked onto Horace's gaze "nothing will change that, you'll never be a king."

"We'll see." Horace gestured toward the executioner. His mens' screams caught their attention. Jon slashed through cowering grunts staring down Horace's group. "So you didn't run away? You came back to die with your people."

"No I came back to stop you."

Horace spat making his stance clear, "kill them."

Jon grabbed a spear chucking it into the charging hostile evading a wild swing running Longclaw through the grunt. Talia smiled proudly witnessing their king keep to his word fighting to protect them all. Her heartbeat nearly stopped noticing Oliver crouch meters behind Horace's group aiming the bow at him ready to end the raid. He changed his intended target to the executioner raising the sword. The arrow struck the executioner's neck sending him crashing to the ground while Oliver nocked another arrow.

Jon stabbed another grunt tossing him aside shouting for Oliver and Talia to run away. Horace turned extending the chain wrapped securely around his wrist. "Did you really think you could kill me after giving away your position? Boy." Horace yanked the blade tipped chain spraying blood onto the ground.

Talia's ran to Oliver, her screams echoing across the land. Oliver coughed blood spilling down the sides of his mouth clutching his throat.

"Oliver!" Jon shouted shoulder ramming his way through two grunts closing the distance. Horace whistled grabbing ahold of Talia's hair summoning the remaining soldiers in the rear formation. "Watch closely King of the North, I'll show you what happens to inferior wildlings who follow an outsider."

Jon met Talia's tearful eyes desperately fighting his way to her. 'You're our king.' She mouthed clutching the heavy axe digging into her stomach. Jon couldn't believe what he'd seen. His thoughts ran wild unable to focus. He became feral slaying the forces attempting to surround him. Jon eventually became overwhelmed being tackled into the dirt by five grunts.

"Show the king how real wildlings express their undying loyalty." Horace taunted heartily enjoying the grunts kicking Jon while he was down leaving him unable to grab Longclaw. The Thenn leader was left in awe watching Talia crawl toward her brother leaving a blood trail. "What a waste such a strong spirit, such a pretty face." He watched her cradle Oliver's lifeless body resting her forehead on his.

Jon's eyes snapped open hearing Ghost's howls. He never heard these sounds coming from him. Jon used the distraction sticking a hatchet into a man's achilles causing him to collapse screaming in agony. He picked a broken spear sticking a grunt's sternum rapidly then swiftly stabbing the jagged end through the bottom of an ambusher's mouth causing him to gargle out blood clutching the wood lodged in his throat. Jon picked up Longclaw cutting a Thenn's arm off in time before he had a chance to impale him.

"He's a monster..." A grunt said cowering from the approaching ranger. The two soldiers ran toward Horace and their brethren being slain without hesitation.

"I've got no use for cowards." Horace stepped back meeting Jon's gaze, "you're outnumbered King in the North," he mocks earning laughs from his men, "you can't think to take us on by yourself?"

"You won't find out until I try."

Horace frowned furrowing his brows, the ranger had to be bluffing, shielding his ego with a false bravado, "someone shut that fucking dog up!" Horace shouted sending a large foot soldier toward Ghost. "Even if you kill us all it won't step the rest of my forces from slaughtering your precious subjects like these two..." His anger grew unable to read Jon, not an ounce of fear or rage surface. Distant barks increased in volume putting the hostiles on edge, "what the fuck is that?"

Gray wolves appeared through the trees hurdling past Jon dispersing in the nearby woodlands attacking the Thenn forces aiding the caravan.

"Wolves?! Are you fucking me?!"

"Run we need to run!"

"Cowards! Where do you think you're going?!" Horace spat witnessing his army spreading out in a panic devoured by wolves. Jon sliced through terrified grunts shoving one to the ground hearing a wolf tearing into him. Another grunt laughed stomping on a gray causing it to whine. He rose his sword to finish the wolf off clashing with Longclaw instead. Jon splits the man's head from his shoulders in a flash as the wolves continued their assault.

"Kill em all you mad mangey mutts!" Tormund said leading the band of fights bursting though the Thenn's frontline.

"Tormund Giantsbane! You picked the right day to die!"

Tormund halts in his track at the familiar voice letting the warriors pass him by. "Mekhi the half giant, did your mother send you here to tell me how much she misses my cock?"

Mekhi cracked his knuckles, "You're a funny man, that's why I'm going to kill you first. I don't give a shit about any of these people, I came here for the sole reason of killing you."

"That supposed to me feel honored you dumb cunt? Fight already!"

Mekhi drew his broadsword charging the wildling lieutenant. Tormund evaded the mighty swing laughing as the blade broke on impact. He kicked Mekhi in the groin damaging his ankle more than his enemy. The taller and broader man picked him up running Tormund through half a dozen trees hurling him into the air.

Caravan warriors and wolves ran rampant clearing hostiles out. Horace unwound the chain from his wrist throwing the blade at Jon. He didn't flinch cutting through the steel chain sending the serrated blade flying. "I missed? I never miss...Let's see you dodge this." Horace hurled the heavy axe in Jon's direction. Jon eluded the Axe by a hair letting it strike an ambushing grunt.

Jon pursues the Thenn leader using the battle's turning tide in favor of his allies as cover making it to the forest's western tree line. Horace was escaping with four others abandoning his forces to their fate. Jon rolled past two spears chucking his at Horace grazing his leg.

Jon unhitched a horse nearby climbing on the saddle glancing one last time at the fleeing group before heading toward the survivors. He gave his horse to the doctor allowing them to check on the injured then quickly rejoined the fray. One by one the cannibalistic Thenns were slain dwindling their numbers until none remained.

Tormund head butted Mekhi breaking his nose bare knuckle punching him. Mekhi kicks the lieutenant's ribs flipping their positions. Mekhi left Tormund unable to counter punches causing the left eye immense swelling. The half giant wrapped large hands around Tormund's neck strangling him. "That's right ya fuckin mongrel, head for the light." Tormund spat in his face holding a last gasp in. "That's it, that's it." He taunted watching him on the verge passing out. Mekhi grunted staring at the Valyrian blade protruding through his sternum collapsing onto the ground coughing up blood.

Jon helped Tormund to his feet, "it's over Tormund we won."

"Edna!" Tormund yelled stumbling past Jon, "Edna!" Jon turned to Mekhi choking on blood clutching the gaping hole in his chest. He sheathed Longclaw leaving the half giant to his fate.

The survivors and wolf pack surveyed the torn battlefield collecting their deceased comrades. The wolves surrounded Ghost keeping him company while the rest of the caravan returned aiding the warriors. Jon laid Talia next to Oliver keeping them together, it's how they would've wanted. They held a pyre for their dead as the sun fell beyond the horizon shedding tears having lost half their people in a single day.

Jon halted as the wolves alerted to his presence before settling down permitting him entrance to the medical tent. He knelt beside Ghost placing a hand in his fur, "this is all my fault Ghost...Everything's that happened. I failed everyone." Jon smiled at Ghost's comforting licks. "I promise I'm not failing again, I'll make this a better world than the shit one people have always known." Jon traced the scar patting Ghost's head, "get some rest boy, you got new friends to lead."

Jon stopped at the edge of the placid camp sitting next to the elder he'd saved from a wolf earlier. He sat next to him noting his empty gaze staring into the sky's dying light. "What're you doing out here by yourself Winston?"

"Just enjoying the view." His voice was soft hollow, a ragged sound of a broken man.

"You don't want to join the others? I'm sure they'd—"

"Do you have family Jon?" He asked keeping a distant gaze.

"I have all you guys—"

"Jon," Winston interjected, "I'm old...Don't have much time left, tell me. Do you have any real family?"

He nods, "Yeah I have a family. I'm not sure they want anything to do with me."

"Never let them go..." Winston sniffs wiping at an eye, "hold onto them no matter what."

"Aye I'll never let them go." He missed them now more than ever. Their reunion gave him a glimmer of hope during the caravan's roughest time. "I'm sorry about Edna."

Winston buried his sobs into his hands falling onto Jon's shoulder, "why couldn't it have been me? I should've been there."

"It's alright Winston, you did what you could." Jon wrapped a comforting arm around the frail geezer's shoulder.

"I let her die out there; cold, alone, afraid. How could I have let that happen?"

"I'm sorry Winston, I truly am, it will get better. The others need you now more than ever."

Winston shook his head, "they need their king, they'll be fine without a useless old man like me..." He said resting his head against his arms. Jon placed a comforting hand on his back letting Winston fall asleep on him. It wasn't long before Jon carried him to his tent tucking him in.

Tormund met Jon on the camp's outskirts holding a knife to a Thenn's jugular, "What the hell are you doing here?!" Jon asked approaching the pair.

"I-I'm...We...We didn't know this would happen..." Jon yanks him from Tormund gripping his collar, "we didn't know."

"Say that again and I'll kill you myself." Jon threw the man aside. "What does he want?"

"Says his leader wants to speak to you."

"How many people do you have?"

"Forty five and a half."

"Half?"

"An old man, a cripple."

Tormund smacks his head, "just say that then ya dumb cunt."

"Be honest with me kid," Jon held him steady preventing him from falling over, "how many people did you kill in the raid?"

Silence passed the trio as Tormund smacks his head again, "you're not deaf answer the king when he speaks to you."

"I didn't kill a soul."

"You lying boy?" Questioned Tormund prepping another strike.

"No, no I swear I swear it...I came to a woman and her child. I was going to do it, but I couldn't, I hesitated...I told them to run...I tried to save them."

Jon nodded, "I believe you," He grips the lad's shoulder reassuringly, "what's your name?"

"It's Noah sir."

"Alright Noah take us to Horace. If you try anything I'm killing you, no questions asked."

It took long after the moon rose in the sky illuminating the darkness to reach the moderately sized camp tucked between a pair of low mountains in the fist of the first men's direction. Tents lined in rows were maintained in poor condition and the people carried a musty odor in need of many resources. They eyed him in wonder standing at attention as Jon strode toward the commander's tent.

"I don't like the way you're looking at me." Tormund drew his sword preparing to strike the teen staring blankly at him.

Jon grabbed his arm, "No Tormund, not them." They're innocents they've got nothing to do with this." He refused to let the lieutenant free.

"They did the same to our people, YOUR people Snow. You want to give them justice? It's only right—"

"No," Jon released Tormund, "we have to be better. There has to be a difference between us and them. These people are ours now." He said continuing toward the war tent closing the discussion.

Noah watched in awe wondering why the King of the North acted this way. Most leaders would've killed their people without any hesitation. The man they called Jon Snow intrigued him; he was an enigma that exuded a silent charisma choosing to champion honor and justice at the core. Is this why the free folk follows him unquestionably? He heard rumors the ranger was resurrected after dying for their people. Could he hold a higher purpose than just serving himself like everyone did nowadays? Noah followed Jon and Tormund hoping they'd walk away with their lives to find out.

"You're finally here," Horace held a hand out welcoming them, "I'm honored to host the crow who calls himself the King in the North."

"I'm no king. I'm here because I need to be." Noah and the others shifted glancing at one another hearing Jon's statement.

"No you're just a crow, you may talk like a wildling but you'll never be one."

"He died for us just like Mance did. Your cunt leader Styr followed him like I did."

"Tormund, I almost forgot you were here, hardly recognized you with your face like that. Mekhi must've found you I take it."

"He's the deadman and I'm still breathin."

"You stand here subjecting to a crow who killed Styr on the Night of the wall raid."

Tormund snorted, "fuck em, and fuck all of you, I hate Thenns. If it were up to me I'd kill you and everyone who follow you. It isn't my call. If you had any pride at any all you would've attack the Hornfoots, they'd gut your fuckin livers."

"I hate the Hornfoots almost as much as you hate us. I'd drown everyone of them bumbling bastards in Milkwater tomorrow. It would be easy, the young leader they have is soft, indecisive, those qualities lead to a quick death. Today was too much fun, I had a chance to kill an outsider crow and his followers who call him the King beyond the wall."

"This is not a game! This is life or death! I lost good people who survived winter expecting to go on living! You could've brought peace to your people, it didn't have to be this way."

"That's where you're wrong ranger. We're similar in a way—"

"We're nothing alike."

"You don't want your crown, that's why they follow you. I didn't want to be the Magnar of our people. I let Loboda and Styr fight for that title, I just wanted my clan to do their duty. Mance offered me a spot in his army to march down south, I respected him enough to hear him out. I couldn't follow him and break bread with crows, that's the day Thenn blood stops running through my veins."

"You killed good people today. I don't care about your reasons, and I'll never be able to trust you. Still I'm willing to come to peace, there is a way out of this for you. We don't have to kill each other."

"No it's far too late for that. What could you offer to killers like us among your people."

"Serve the Night's Watch. You work personally under me. You'll be signing a death warrant and receive no glory but it serves noble cause to something bigger than yourselves."

"How stupid could you be? Wildlings don't serve the Watch."

"Times are changing; wildlings defended the north in place of the Watch in it's darkest hour, they're welcome to guard the realms of men."

Horace shook his head, "you act all proud as if serving that obsolete order brings any honor. The white walkers are gone."

"Were you the one who placed severed limbs in a field surrounding Milkwater's southern shore?"

"No it wasn't me, does that really matter crow? Face it, the dead were here longer than we've been and will here far after we perish. We celebrate small victories now, but they win in the end. When I was a kid I thought water was bad seeing many friends drown. It's nothing compared to ice, it moves like it has a mind of it's own. It acts like it got a taste for killing the world once and vows to do it again. At least that's what Mance believed."

"Don't talk about Mance. He believed in uniting the free folk to survive the dead. The dead are gone and I'm trying my best to make life better for everyone. Things didn't have to turn out this way, we lost good people."

"Let me ask you something ranger." He said wiping wine off his beard. "What do you care about innocents? You killed your queen for the land of Westeros? Good of the realm? You really are a ranger crow. I'm curious what makes you believe you have any honor?"

"You talk too damn much," Jon said drinking from his own cup, "I told you I'm here because I need to be. The forty six people you had living under you are part of our camp now."

"You think I care about them ranger? Most of them are made up of whore wives, old people, and injured men who aren't worth a damn in my army."

"What's left of it," Jon said crossing his arms, "this is the last time this I'm offering you your life. You won't be free, own land, live on the communities and raise families. Those will remain unfulfilled, you reform yourselves joining the Night's Watch working in a squad directly under me."

Horace bellowed a laugh surprising the others, "you just don't get it. I'm not done attack you or your people, I won't stop until you're all dead."

"You won't be going anywhere anytime soon with your leg wound."

"It'll heal. I'll find better subordinates and I'll kill you."

"Why?" Jon asked. "What's your point in all this?"

"You really no nothing Ranger. True Thenn pride themselves in the hunt, we were the first to develop advanced war tactics among the first men; deliberate attacks on non-combatants for the singular purpose of tormenting the enemy. Generations of front line battles forced us to organize into a lethal killing force. It's the code we live regulates us to this life of continued evolution. I am the one to carry on this will.

Jon glanced at the four Thenn behind Horace noting their silence. "I'm aware of Thenn tactics, you were the one enemy I didn't want to face. There's no taking what you did back, a code that is honor less isn't a code. I can't allow you to carry this will of yours on, this ends here."

"Then it appears there's only one thing left for you to do."

"Aye, suppose there is." Jon downed the rest of the cup blocking Horace's sword aiming to decapitate him. In one motion the ranger parried breaking the inferior sword shattering the chain tipped blade to pieces negating Horace's surprise attack. Jon sliced the Thenn leader's neck to the bone ensuring he felt his death watching him collapse soaking blood in the carpet.

"It's over." Tormund halted staring at the bewildered Thenn, "don't stand around, I can't promise I won't kill you."

Jon watched the clan eagerly pick their belongings for the journey ahead. He turned to the four Thenn nodding toward Noah. "State your name and how many people you killed in the raid."

"Name's Kaid, killed two warriors, they were barley old enough to call themselves men."

"Eli sir, I killed two also, a young couple. They um... didn't have a chance, I didn't want to believe I killed unarmed people." He bowed his head causing Jon to grip his scalp planting his gaze forward.

"Solomon, I killed several people. Men, women, children...It didn't matter, I just follow orders." Jon stared at him nodding to himself taking the rope from Tormund.

"Hands behind your back cunts!" He shouted binding their hands together while Jon looped a rope through their binds tethering then together.

"Start walking I'll leave if you fall behind during the trip." Jon stated turning away ignoring their protests.

"Ranger!" Noah yelled halting his tracks, "you owe us an explanation about sparing our lives if we're joining you."

"I don't owe you anything." Jon marched toward them, "you'll be fed, that's all I can guarantee. Your job is to stay bound and shut the fuck up until we leave for Castle Black."

"When the fuck's that going to happen?" Solomon inquired.

"Not soon. Weeks at the earliest thanks to you guys."

"I'm sure Noah's big mouth told you we didn't know. You think we wanted to kill a bunch of women and children who didn't have a chance?" Kaid shifted on his feet struggling against the ropes.

"Tell that to your friend here."

"Solomon's barley got half a brain, he's a goddamn halfwit." Eli said ready to fight Solomon using only his legs as he tried to approach.

"Why not just kill us instead?" Kaid asked stepping between the group.

"You're going to be the example that sets a new standard going forward. Things are going to be different; Wildlings, Northmen, Dothraki, Unsullied, no matter where you come from anyone can all be afforded the privilege of serving the Watch."

"There's only honor in serving if threats exist. You talked about finding a walker symbol, I thought they were extinct." Noah said.

"It's not enough concrete evidence, it could've been there before the Long Night for all I know. The only way I'll find out is by traveling up river northwest to the Land of Always Winter."

The four prisoners froze staring at the ranger, "so that's it then huh? You don't give a damn about us. You just need us for your fuckin suicide mission." Eli said.

"That's the idea. I couldn't care less if you live or die, that's up to you guys. I could behead you all or you can deal with it." Jon replied.

"Fuck it, I'm in." Kaid said shaking his head, "ain't gotta choice now."

"I am leaving my fate with the gods. I'll join your quest Snow." Solomon spoke.

"You didn't have a choice to begin with. I welcome the enthusiasm." The ranger deadpanned.

Better than losing my head like that crazy bastard Horace." Eli pinched the bridge of his nose contemplating a beheading.

"I still don't understand."

"What's that? Why you still have a head?"

"Exactly, you could kill us and no would give a shit—"

"I don't owe anything to you guys."

"Trust goes both ways, how do you know we won't coordinate an attack to kill you while your back's turned.

"I don't plan on turning my back on any of you and I'd kill you quicker than you could draw your swords if you tried."

None argued the ranger's point. "Still, at least tell us the truth, if you're honorable as they say you'll keep to your word." Noah drew Jon's gaze to their group.

It felt like an eternity before he spoke, "someone a lot smarter than me said killing and beheading isn't a way to inspire devotion." He said leaving them in awe. Jon returned towing his horse grabbing onto their binding rope, "now you guys have my permission to shut the fuck up." The ranger grinned climbing on his horse trailing Tormund and the others.

Light peered over the horizon by the time they made it to camp. Tormund took the clan to the medical tent to get wounds treated and stock their rations. Jon tied the prisoners to the horse post smiling at Ghost leading twelve grays as their new alpha.

"Jon! Jon!"

The ranger knelt embracing Brielle and Elena's daughter Ivy. "Good to see you little one."

"She was asking where the King of the North rode off to last night." Elena said hugging him, "I guess it's finally over then."

"Yeah it's over," Jon stood watching Ivy and the other children playing with the wolves showing no outwardly fear, "I'm sorry about what happened to Brielle, she was a good person—"

"She was the best person I knew." Elena chuckled at the kids tumbling over Ghost and his pack, "she believed in you Jon. We all do, things are going to get better I can feel it." Elena squeezed Jon's arm calling for Ivy, "oh yeah Jon, Winston hasn't got up yet. You better move him if you're planning to pack."

Jon called to Winston stopping outside his tent, "Winston we're leaving soon rise and shine. We'll find horses on the way and I'll take you sea fishing like we talked about." Jon entered the tent shaking the geezer's shoulder, "Winston we have to leave." He shook him again, "Winston." Jon removed a glove placing fingertips between the wind pipe and neck muscle immediately grimacing.

Camp finished packing as the caravan prepared to disembark toward Storrold's Point. They gathered around Jon cradling Winston's corpse shielding him from view using a blanket. Tormund sighed prepping a small pyre, "It was time." They watched last elder of a wildling generation placed to rest. The caravan survivors more than a hundred strong paid their final respects before continuing on.

Hardly anyone spoke for the first ten miles into the journey east content to walk in relative silence toward their destination. Jon didn't have a problem with the lack of communication, he preferred things like this for the moment. The survivors rested at a low valley taking time to survey their surroundings enjoying nature's tranquility.

Then Jon saw it; In the middle of the green sea of grass stood a tall kingly horse. His hooves glittered in the sunlight marching through the weeds, held high and proud. Horses appeared sweeping into the valley by the dozens galloping into the wind, legs corded with muscles, and hooves that brushed the ground as they plummeted by. Running like wildfire with their manes and tails streaming behind them mirroring ribbons. They galloped through the ocean of green soaring in hot pursuit of ravenous wind.

Everyone watched the horses in stunned amazement approaching them steadily. Vegetation was fed to gain their trust letting the caravan survivors greet them. Jon removed his saddle thanking his horse for the journey, however she was aged holding a lot of mileage on her legs. He didn't want to exert her to almost near collapse again. He gave her to a Thenn woman and her brother seeking out the the stampede's leader's location.

Jon neared the white horse admiring it's beauty, it was actually a she. The kingly horse was a queen. She faced Jon as he approached permitting him to step closer as she snatched the vegetation allowing him to gently pet her. "Hey girl, how about you come with me." He said smiling as he fed her another carrot.

"Nice fuckin horse." Tormund said pulling the prisoners along grinning at the cloth he wrapped around their mouths to shut them up.

"Don't give me that look Ghost." Jon chuckled when the direwolf examined the horse staring up at him. On morning after finding horses the caravan arrived back at Hardhome. Jon lead the group down the trail leading to the torn gates passing by abandoned structures unable to see any movement. He rode on until hearing a noise originating from the interior. "It's alright don't be afraid, we're not enemies."

People emerged from the fog greeting the arriving caravan with open arms. The caravan and Hardhome survivors shed tears upon reuniting while Jon took a step back processing the miracle happening in this moment. There were only five hundred left over from the six thousand that were present when they left. It gave Jon hope that there were survivors out here holding out for aid. They would build on the old creating a better place to live then before.

"Your grace! Your grace." A voice shouted breaking Jon from his conversations with the Hardhome refugees.

"What is it?"

The man stood straighter, "I met a man claiming to be related to you one night after I got lost tracking elk through the woods. He said tell Jon Snow to find me up north, he'll be waitin. I thought he was a walker at first because of the way he looks, turns out he's just a regular guy."

Jon's eyes widened slightly, "Thanks for telling me." There wasn't any doubt about where he would be going after helping establish settlements.

"Sure thing, though now that you're here and brought fresh supplies I can get out of here."

"Where are you headed?"

"I don't know that's the best part. We thought no one would come for us, that there wouldn't be a chance to rebuild. All that's changed now thanks to you." He said disappearing into the crowd.

The free folk stood hand in hand along the shoreline letting water soak their bare feet basking in the sun's rays. They stepped in the sea together stopping waist deep throwing water over one another. Words weren't needed, everyone was free to choose their own path. Seeing his people laugh and hold one another in the bay brought a certain sense of fulfillment. All the sacrifices that got them to this point would be cherished by generations to come. Jon wished to share the special moment with the Starks but he held hope he'd see them again. To whatever came next, for now Jon wore a smile feeling true peace overcome him.

—

**XXX**

—

She shivered uncontrollably unable to feel anything. Her heartbeat echoed roaring to life, she felt as if it were someone else's, it sounded too faint to be hers. Her chest heated up stirring the woman to take an inhale. It felt like an eternity since her last. The exhale came more suddenly setting every nerve on fire. Daenerys snapped her eyes open letting out ragged pants unable to stop shaking.

"May the Lord of Light be praised. Our queen Daenerys Targaryen has returned to the world of the living." Kinvara clasped her hands together unable to contain her excitement.

"Praise R'llor." Zanrush added. The priests and priestesses wasted no time covering the queen in heated blankets warming her ice cold skin.

"Where am I?" Daenerys asked staring at the high priestess.

"You're in Volantis's red temple my queen. The Lord has made his will known—"

"Where is Drogon?" Daenerys glanced at the ceiling hearing her son's roars echo across the sky. "Do not touch me." She said halting Zanrush's movements. Daenerys dragged her feet along the heated stone failing to stand upright. She touched the aching scar beneath her left breast recalling how it got there, the fresh memories only brought a headache.

"You shouldn't move your grace the resurrection hasn't completely healed your bo—"

"Resurrection?" Dany locked eyes with Kinvara, "how long was I dead?"

"Your grace—"

"How long?!"

"A little over two weeks."

Daenerys shook her head, "that's too long for some to be dead... I shouldn't be alive, it isn't right!" She placed a hand over her stomach holding the urge to vomit.

"You came to us completely encased in ice, it took us days to thaw you out." Zanrush said placing another blanket on her.

"Get me water..." Dany coughed sending a priest to fulfill her request.

"This is wonderful my queen," Kinvara placed her hands together approaching the Mother of Dragons, "truly you are reborn to remake this world...You are the champion of freed slaves, your dragons are fire made flesh...A gift from the Lord of Light...Your destiny is to lead the people against the darkness in the wars to come."

Daenerys finished her cup greedily glaring at the red priestess, "my destiny was reclaiming the Iron Throne. I lost it to someone who had the stronger claim. I have no interest in returning to Westeros or listening to prophecies any longer."

The room's attention shifted to shouting originating outside. Daario Naharis and his Second Sons calvary burst through the doors pushing past the priests. Daenerys tried to no avail to meet him as he pushed past them in order to reach her.

"This is a holy place of worship, we told you-"

"Out of my way witch." Daario scooped Daenerys in his arms holding her tightly, "I'm sorry Daenerys, I should've never left your side..."

Silent tears poured down her cheeks as she held onto a loved one. Something that was void in Westeros, she was betrayed by everyone and in her last moment alive truly felt alone. "I heard from Greyworm what happened; Varys, Missandei, Ser Jorah...I should've been there..."

"Daario," she sobbed releasing her pent up emotion, "I made a mistake." Daenerys clutched him like a lifeline unable to let go.

"Daenerys look at me." He said lifting her chin, "fuck Westeros, fuck their people, they celebrated your family's death and didn't think twice about killing you even when you weren't a threat to them. Listen to me," he cupped her face gently, "you did what you thought was right, you pursued your destiny."

"And look where that got me...I failed Daario, I'm not anyone's queen anymore." She said averting her gaze feeling the shaking dissipate.

"Essos will always see you as a liberator and their rightful queen. The people here still love you, I love you. You failed once, we should go and fail again."

"My whole life I'd only had one goal...Now I don't know what to do."

Daario offered a small smile "I could only do so much as a regent in your absence. The majority of Essos practices slavery in abundance now more than ever after the battle in the Bay of Dragons. People here need their queen, hope."

"I'd like to leave." She said softly earning a nod from him.

"Of course my queen—"

"I told you I'm not anyone's queen!" Daenerys sighed leaning into Daario's support, "I'm only the Mother of Dragons."

"Bring her clothes!" Daario shouted to his shoulders leading her out of the room.

"I'm done letting prophecies decided my fate." Dany said leaving Kinvara and Zanrush.

Daario carried her to the temple entrance hearing Drogon's roars becoming fiercer. "Daario...Do you still believe in me?"

He arched a brow, "of course, I'll always believe in you...We waited along Myr's coastline hearing Drogon was flying home. When we saw where he was headed we held hope he'd come here. I rode for three days straight to get to this shit pile of a city because I wanted to see you again." Dany hid a smile in his shoulder.

"Is Greyworm and the unsullied alright?"

"I sent them a raven when we left, I urged him to return to Mereen. Now that you're back we should expect to see him soon.

She was thrilled Greyworm was safe but couldn't bring herself to show it, "I'm not returning to Mereen."

The commander halted for a moment, "where will you go?"

"Home."

The pair shielded their eyes stepping out into the light of day emerging from the darkened temple. Drogon lands in front of them blocking their path scaring off the temple guards. The dragon stands on it's hind legs showing off it's imposing height and wingspan roaring into the air. Daario eased Daenerys down unwilling to leave her side.

Dany felt life return to her running her hands along Drogon's scales. "I've missed you Drogon, my sweet boy." She said placing a chaste kiss on his snout.

Recognizing what was happening Daario caught Dany's wrist causing Drogon to snarl in his direction. "Please Daenerys, Mereen needs you, your people need you, I need you."

"Daario..." Her once assured voice sounded shattered, broken. No longer carrying the same fire from before.

"You can still bring hope to people. I'm more hopeful than I've ever been seeing you now. We'll be awaiting your return to Mereen my queen." He said releasing her stepping back as she climbed on Drogon giving one last glance ascending into the atmosphere.

"The world still needs the Mother of Dragons." Kinvara said standing beside the commander.

"Essos needs her. She'll return, I can feel it." Daario gestured his troops to follow taking their leave, "come to Mereen in a few days time, hopefully our queen is back by then." The Second Sons departed leaving Volantis to prepare their capital for Daenery's return.

No matter any troubles she went through, flying on Drogon had the effect of making everything else seem insignificant in comparison. By themselves the duo were powerful, together they proved to be an unstoppable force. He was her last living son and she would be damned if she let herself outlive him. "There it is Drogon, where we're from." For the first time since waking a joyous smile spread across her features. Years were taken off her life in pursuit of the Iron Throne. No longer would she be a slave to her ambitions or foretold prophecies, now she was free. Nothing else mattered at this moment, "we're home Drogon." Daenerys held back tears seeing the ruins of Valyria emerge through the clouds. For a moment she felt like her old self pulling on Drogon's spike making him fly faster—At this moment she felt truly alive.

—

**XXX**

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**A/N: Next the world expands. Tyrion, Bran, and King's Landing will be featured. Also Jon's return to Castle Black and journey to the Land of Always Winter begins. As always thanks for the read**.


	4. A New Age

**A/N: A longer chapter than usual since the last upload. I'm hoping to surprise a few people with this one. Where this chapter begins and where it ends is a testament to the story going forward.**

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**XXX**

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The main streets flooded with masked citizens celebrating in harmonic bliss participating in drinking, dancing, and festivities customary to the holiday. Two masked men lead their dates behind them admiring the rare celebratory spectacle in the capital. "Well girls here we are," the masked man said stopping the group outside a three story residence.

"This place is most enchanting!"

"It looks so fancy, there are many people inside."

"It's nothin ladies one of my several owned establishments in Westeros." He held in a grunt from a kick he received courtesy of the shorter man. "Alright in we go."

The group passed prostitutes, spectators, keepers, servers, and wealthy patrons to reach the private room on the top floor. "What did I say ladies? My buddy's place is indulging is it not?" Tyrion removed his masquerade mask gesturing them to follow. "Let's have some Arbor Gold wine shall we?"

"Oh my we've only drank Dornish red wine, it was always much too sour."

"Dornish or shitty Reach wine doesn't compare, the bottles are comin all night. Let me take these from ya girls." Bronn took their furs and bags settling the items in the lounge.

"You were most impressive the way you handled those soldiers fighting amongst the crowds." The brunette said sitting on Tyrion's lap.

"Easy woman I haven't started pouring yet." Tyrion's smirk grew as the blonde sat on his other side. "As the king's hand I just try keeping the peace. There's nothing like the threat of a night sleeping in jail next to pig shit in order to keep it."

They giggled taking their wine goblets, "you're like the king in a way." One of them said affectionally stroking his scarred face.

"In a way yes I consider myself a king but not of this city. Have you ladies ever heard of Casterly Rock?"

"Is it nicer than here?" The raven haired woman wrapped around Bronn asked.

"Alright calm down friend, High Garden is the place of your dreams ladies." Bronn said hoisting a laughing woman over his shoulder dragging the other by her waist. "It's a whole lot better than some fortress on some desolate rock."

Tyrion mocked a laugh, "I'm sure in Dorne they mentioned how rich the Westerlands are. Tell me have any of you been to Lannisport?"

"I've always wanted to go. In Sunspear people talk admirably about Lannister gold and their wealthy cities."

Tyrion sipped from his cup holding them closer, "Well I can assure you there's more than enough to spend in five lifetimes."

"Horseshit." Bronn coughed.

"How about we move this party to the room?"

The blonde chuckled running a hand over him, "what's the rush my lord? We have all night."

"Tell us about what you do, it must be thrilling being Hand of the King." The brunette added playing with his collar.

"Really ladies," Tyrion held his hands up, "there isn't much to tell. It's all boring policies to aid Westeros into the power she used to be."

They pouted drawing closer, "there must be something exciting that happened, there's nothing on par with a good story about daring deeds to loosen women up." The blonde said boldly placing his hand underneath her dress.

Tyrion gulped downing the cup's contents clearing his throat, "when Stannis's fleet attacked King's Landing in the Battle of Blackwater, I commanded the city's main defense. Though the songs don't sing about it, there I was leading five thousand seven hundred gold cloaks, eight hundred mercenaries, three hundred knights, and men at arms against Stannis Baratheon's calvary."

The two women indulged him grabbing wherever they could, "so you're a military man too? A war hero. I always wanted to be fucked by one," the brunette nibbled on his earlobe, "tell me brave warrior, is that where you got this scar?"

"Yes I got it in a duel with a rebellious kingsguard, Ser Mandon Moore. I barley managed to best him in single combat by a stroke of luck." Tyrion poured his drink faster ignoring Bronn's obnoxious cough.

Tyrion barley moved threatening to be stripped in his chair, "I haven't finished my second cup girls." He said watching the last button on his shirt pop off.

"You're that much closer my lord," she said placing Tyrion's hand on her ass pressing his face between her friend's breasts. "Do tell us about how you slain the dragon queen."

Tyrion recalled the last memories shared with Daenerys. The events leading up to the Red Keep and the city's destruction while hundreds of thousands perished including the most important people to him, his siblings. "I didn't slay the dragon queen..."

"Mm then who did? Surely he couldn't have been braver than you."

"A lot braver actually. He saved me from execution after I renounced my title. He's a far better person than I am. Wherever he is I'm sure he's happy." Tyrion downed the wine forgetting the past indulging in the beautiful Dornish women.

"I told you we are living our best lives." Bronn appeared swiping a wine bottle toasting Tyrion, "cheers friend."

"Cheers." Tyrion muffled through two pairs of breasts.

"Well Mister Hero, it's rude to keep a lady waiting." The friends kissed one another moaning and teasing playfully onto each other's lips. The brunette interlocked her hands with the blonde unclasping their dresses letting the silky clothing fall to the floor.

Tyrion clamped his mouth shut downing his cup, "I can die happily now knowing this is as good as it gets." He remarked following his guests to the chambers.

_Knock Knock Knock_

The room fell still filling with the sounds of ecstasy, "Yes spank me harder!" Tyrion obliged finger fucking the brunette with a free hand, "tell me I'm fucking dirty."

"I'm not entirely sure what you mean."

"Oh gods tell me I'm fucking naughty!" The blonde said burying her cheek in the pillow.

"Alright your fucking naughty." He said giving a spank to both. "If you two keep this up I'll bring you to my place."

"You honor me my lord we've only just met."

"To the rest of the night then ladies." He refilled their cups eyeing them hungrily.

_Knock Knock Knock_

The pounding at the door grew louder, "fuck off no service!"

_Bang Bang Bang Bang _

Bronn sighed, "excuse me ladies I've got to straighten out some drunken wanker." He said throwing clothes on. "I said I'm comin ya bloody idiot."

Bronn placed a hand over his eyes, "why did I even open the— What is it Tarly?"

"I hope I'm not interrupting something—"

"Little late for that, what brings you here?"

"Well it's actually really important see-"

Bronn shook his head placing an arm around Sam's shoulder leading him into the hallway, "yes yes very important," He turned Sam back to the room, "I'm busy at the moment fuckin Dornish twins. You ever fucked two twins from Dorne at the same time Sam?"

A grin broke out across his features, "that does sound important. I didn't want to intrude on your evening if that's what you're implying. I came to tell you the king requested a meeting—"

Bronn retreated to the door, "I'm gonna stop you right there, tell your grace we got terrible sea food poisoning."

Sam lodged his foot in the doorway, "I insist you two come along, I don't want to come back here and force you guys out."

He snorted holding in a laugh, "you and what army Tarly." Bronn said shutting the door.

"Samwell Tarly huh? What did he want?" Tyrion asked gulping a bottle struggling to throw the other shirt sleeve on.

"What the hell happened to you? You jump in the sea? You're soaked like a newborn seal."

"Thank the gods I didn't drown considering I'm not the best swimmer."

"Fair point." Bronn grabbed an unopened bottle popping the top off, "dear old Sam said the king summoned us."

Tyrion knitted his brows, "that's unusual, our king has stuck to the council schedule routinely since his inauguration. Did he say what it was about?"

"Don't know, didn't care enough to ask," he shrugged swigging the Arbor Gold, "said he'd be back to force us out."

Tyrion halted a chuckle, "him and what—"

The door cracked nearly splintering in half sending the door handle flying. Tyrion and Bronn stepped away hearing unintelligible arguing outside. The chamber door burst off its metal hinges crashing to the floor. Brienne of Tarth emerged from the dust marching toward them.

"Army..." Tyrion trailed off downing the rest of bottle.

"Are you fookin nuts?" Bronn shouted pointing at the collateral, "for fooks sake this goes in the books! This is coming out of your earnings Brienne."

"I tried to warn you." Sam said standing beside the kingsgaurd commander.

"Fuck off! You said nothing about her busting my door down!"

"Lady Brienne, Samwell, good to see you both. Care for a drink?"

Brienne narrowed her eyes, "how many times have I told you I'm not a lady." She pinched the bridge of her nose, "I'm not surprised this is how the both of you still choose to spend your spare time."

"That reminds me allow me to introduce my friends Annika and Estrella." Tyrion watched the Dornish women stare in awe of Brienne placing their hands on her gold armor.

"What're they doing?"

"Seems they've taken a liking to you, or your gold rather."

"Who're you tall lady?" Estrella asked placing a hand below the knight's sword belt. "We've never seen a knight woman before."

"Alright that's far enough miss." Brienne removed their hands, "it was nice to meet you both, but we have to leave for urgent business with the king."

"We know," Annika knelt next to Tyrion kissing his cheek, "our man is the king. A war hero."

"A war hero?" Brienne arched a brow, "what did he tell you two exactly?"

Tyrion waved a hand dismissively, "well this has been quite the evening girls I think we should—"

"He is most brave! Blackwater battle's warrior hero. He defeated a knight like you." Estrella said.

"A knight like me? Brienne suppressed her chuckles, "let me take a wild guess, he told you he got that scar before he killed Mandon Moore." Brienne failed to stop a laugh earning ones from Bronn and Sam.

"So you didn't kill a kingsguard in single combat?" Annika asked.

Tyrion's words were drowned out by the others laughter, "He was killed by a squire." Brienne said leaning on Sam barley containing herself.

"A squire?"

"Now ladies I may have exaggerated a bit—" Tyrion stumbled receiving a slap from Annika as she stormed out the room.

"It appears I deserved that." Tyrion turned to Estrella, "Estrella darling I'm—" the second slap nearly knocked him over. "It appears I also deserved that." He said placing a hand on his cheek, "well since you've ruined my evening we best get a move on."

Bronn wrapped his arms around his dates, "you really fooked yourself good with that one. Have fun at the meeting, tell the king I'll have the financial reports next time."

Brienne cleared her throat halting their tracks. "If you don't mind me asking ladies what kind of deeds did my friend tell you he accomplished?"

"Come on girls don't be hasty now we were having a lovely evening, don't leave." Bronn cursed watching them disappear down the hall. "You two know how to fuck up a perfectly good night, know that?"

"I tried to warn you Bronn." Sam said showing a grin.

"Piss off Tarly!"

The four left the brothel making their way through the city pushing past rowdy and belligerent crowds too intoxicated to care about anything other than their personal indulgences. The people stormed through the marketplace, gathering tightly around merchant stalls, timbered inns, taverns, and brothels.

"What's so damn important the king drags us out here on holiday? I was happy enjoying these festivities, look at all these jolly fucks."

Brienne rolled her eyes, "will you stop talking, I'd like to try concentrating on making it through this mess. It was hard enough tracking you down."

"Doesn't give you a right to be bustin a respectable business owner's doors down without a warrant does it love?"

"You can afford another door Master of Coin, Lord Paramount of the Reach and Lord of Highgarden."

"Well excuse me Brienne of fucking Tarth," Bronn draped an elbow on the Grand Maester, "I got one word for you Sam, yikes."

Tyrion witnessed a fight breaking out noting the people's behavior never really changed. It didn't matter months earlier King's Landing was nearly decimated, yet people didn't aspire to adapt. Instead things worsened, it didn't matter who ruled everyone would be in the same place doing the same things that fulfilled them. The age of heroes was dead, it appeared most were inclined to serve their own selfish desires rather than helping people because it was the right to do or simply their nature drove them to do it—He was not among the latter. Tyrion trailed Brienne marching up to the crowded fight.

"Step away or I'm going to have to use lethal force." Brienne said separating the two groups hurling insults at each other.

"Stay outta this!"

"This ain't none of your damn business."

"What's the problem here?" The insults stopped as some backed off becoming intimidated by the taller woman in armor carrying a big fucking sword.

A faction leader stumbled pointing at the parallel group, "these fuckers didn't pay up, their pooch lost the fight fair and square."

"Goddamn liar! You buffed your hound with deer antler. We ain't paying up!"

This was a waste of time, there wasn't a need to kill each other over a dogfight. "You both should fight again at a later date, no more cheating and no more swindling deals, you are to both fight fairly and honorably. I'd be happy to pay for a round of drinks—"

"I told you to stay outta this you dumb bitch! Women aren't knights, they're incapable of commanding men. I ain't leaving without my coin." He pulled out a large hunter's knife approaching the rival group.

Brienne held a hand out stopping him, "put the knife away sir or I'll have to use lethal force." He ignored the warning spitting on Brienne. She wiped the saliva from her face not removing her gaze from him.

"I can't tell if that's the ballsiest or stupidest decision I've ever seen but this is gettin good boys." Bronn said resting a hand on a hilt.

"I said outta my way nasty bitch—" The forceful impact from Brienne's strike snapped the man's wrist forcing the knife to drop. She roughly secured his hands behind his back cuffing them together waiting for the guards.

"Y-you broke my damn wrist."

"Ya got off easy prick, had it been me I would've gutted you where you stood." Bronn said tossing him to the Lannister guards.

"I'm thrilled you enjoyed the show," Tyrion said to the stunned spectators. "I suggest you all leave before you wind up like the other guy." The groups scrambled pushing past one another forgetting about their current beef, "that never gets old." He smirked following the others.

Tyrion frowned glancing at the kingsguard commander, "is everything okay Brienne?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Answering my question with another of your own isn't exactly an answer." Tyrion smiled as she continued on unwilling to respond, "don't let one cocksucker's words dampen your spirits. To most you are an inspiration, a beacon of hope. I would even go so far as to call you a hero."

Brienne met his gaze, "I'm just a knight trying to do her duty justice," she slowed her steps walking beside Tyrion, "you know as well as I do he isn't the only one thinking those things." He noticed the emotion brimming on her features threatening to spill over. "I...I thought I'd get a little more respect y'know...Since I've arrived here everything I've done feels fruitless."

Tyrion nodded understanding the feeling of being unappreciated and receiving lack of respect despite working a lifetime for a coveted position only for the void to remain. "Believe it or not I know what you're going through. The tree may be fruitless at the moment, however it isn't hopeless."

"How do you mean?"

"I was hoping you'd ask," Tyrion swiped a three quarter full bottle from a drunkard's dangled fingertips wiping the lid chugging greedily. "You're the first lady knight in Westeros's history, there will always be those who support the conservative ideals this country established believing women should be kept in their place. You can only control what you can Brienne, wear it on you like armor and it can never be used to hurt you. Your doing the best job you can, and in time they'll come to see as one of the fiercest and honorable kingsguard in history." Tyrion tossed the empty bottle aside belching loudly, "that's up to you of course. If you let the opinions of drunks in fleabottom get to you and start beating them to satisfy your anger you won't be better than most of the kingsgaurd I knew serving under Joffrey—only more of the same."

Brienne couldn't help smiling, "you do have a way with words Tyrion, when your sober enough to give them that is. I assure you I plan on doing better, I have to if I'm to protect and serve our king."

"That's the spirit." Tyrion took charge of their group spotting a favorite restaurant of his, "we can't go to a small council meeting on an empty stomach, let's eat shall we? It's on me." Tyrion met the owner inside reserving a private table gated from the hectic crowds pouring into the streets. The four laughed toasting their mugs of ale eating through their courses. It was rare to spend time enjoying each other's company outside of council meetings.

"That hit the spot. You get enough to eat Sam? I'll pay for anything this Lannister cheapskate won't."

"I'm paying for everything."

"I got enough, couldn't eat another bite. I'm taking the rest home for Gilly and the little one."

"How is Gilly? She must be coming along well, it's been awhile since the last time I saw her." Brienne said.

"She's doing well, thanks for asking. I tell her to take it easy at the bakery but you know her."

"Sounds about right, she's working harder than you Tarly." Bronn added.

Sam chuckled, "you're not wrong about that," the maester stood abruptly, "watch my belongings, I'll only be gone a minute. I have to retrieve textbooks I ordered from the citadel."

"I'm comin with ya then." Bronn stood tossing his hand cloth on the table.

"There's no need the bookstore isn't far, I'll only be a minute—"

"Aye that's the problem my brainy friend, if someone doesn't go with ya you won't leave." Bronn said wrapping an arm around his shoulder leading him onto the pavement.

"You oughta stop by for dinner one of these nights, Gilly's cooking is better than any restaurant."

"I might take you up on that offer, nothing beats a home cooked meal. Do you guys drink?"

"Of course not."

"We'll work on that..."

Tyrion watched them vanish in the crowd sipping from the goblet. "So, are you seeing anyone?"

Brienne arched a brow mid-sip settling the cup, "what in the seven hells is that supposed to mean?"

"I was simply trying to trying to address the elephant in the—" He glanced around for a moment grimacing, "outside."

"This is going splendid so far." Brienne sipped longer than usual ignoring Tyrion's glare.

"All I mean to say is I'm worried about you Brienne—"

"Don't. I never needed someone to worry about my emotional needs thank you very much."

"That's exactly my point. Regardless of our circumstances the realm is at peace. You deserve time to decompress."

Brienne shook her head, "I don't plan on spending my time trying to find love. I only care about my duty."

"Who said anything about love? I was talking about enjoying the pleasures life has to offer."

"Drop it."

Tyrion sighed, "I know you've been going to see him." He met her gaze reaching out, "I miss him too, he was all I had."

"I told you to drop it." She pulled away drinking from her cup, "I don't need your worrying."

"I understand how you feel, I loved my brother dearly. I know that he loved you."

Brienne returned his glare, "I know he did." The knight bowed her head suppressing a chuckle, "he loved her more."

Tyrion nodded, "he did."

"We had a special bond I admit...She was the love of his life, it was only right he came here to spend his last moments with her."

He nodded, "she was. They shared a womb, coming into this world together it was only right they went out—" Tyrion paused taking a drink calming the sudden shakiness, "one of the last things he told me was he never cared for innocents or otherwise."

"He said the same thing before riding south." Brienne sighed, "in the end he cared. Despite all your sister's deeds she was just as much an innocent as everyone else when the dragon queen burned this city."

The king's hand watched the crowds of people hoping his siblings would walk by carrying a newborn babe. He blamed Daenerys. He blamed his sister. He blamed his father, he blamed Joffrey. He blamed himself more than anyone. He never took the path of honor choosing charming cleverness to deceive and disarm those he came across. Since arriving in Meereen he'd been deceiving his queen. Daenerys was right in the end. At his core he truly only knew how to serve his own interests, for his family, for the Lannister name. "I can't help feeling I'm responsible for their deaths," Tyrion bit his lip turning his gaze to the pedestrians, "I killed my father of course, I killed my girlfriend Shae, I betrayed Varys, I was useless when the dead attacked, I failed to save the honorable Tarlys. I couldn't protect my own siblings or nephews and niece. I couldn't save poor Missandei. She only wanted to live a life of freedom and I couldn't even see to that."

Brienne reached out for him this time, "Don't blame yourself Tyrion. You couldn't have known what would happen, you did the absolute best you could."

Tyrion grimaced once more, "that's the thing, I didn't."

They remained silent for a few moments watching patrons at the nearest table shout in celebration. "It seems like they're having a bit of fun. I bet they acted the same way before, doing the same damn thing. We never change who we really are."

"Is that why you spend your time binge drinking, laying with every woman who throws a look in your direction."

"Precisely. I haven't changed and don't find a need to. Does that make me a bad person?"

"No actually," Brienne finished her drink signaling for another, "you're just not as special as you think you are."

He grinned examining the wine selection, "harsh but justified. I don't disagree with you. I'm no hero either, those don't exist anymore, aside from you of course."

"Stop telling people you were the hero who defeated Mandon Moore, Podrick doesn't appreciate it."

"I did help."

Brienne offered a smile, "you did. You're not a bad person. I know that because you signed up for the same job I did. To protect the realms in the king's name. That's all we need to better ourselves, fulfilling our duty.

"You're right Brienne, as long as we're upholding our duty that's all that matters." Tyrion drummed his fingers on the table awaiting the ordered wines arrival, tipping the server a gold coin when he set the bottles down, "so Brienne, did you have any holiday plans before being summoned by our king?"

"I was planning on traveling to Winterfell to visit the Queen of the North."

Tyrion smiled warmly refilling their cups, "ah I haven't heard from Lady Sansa in some time. She's doing well I trust?"

Brienne matched his smile, "from the letters I received it sounds like the North is prospering better than ever."

"That's nice to hear."

"She's asks about Bran the most, how he's doing, if he plans to visit. I can tell she's worried most about Arya, she said they exchange letters and is expecting one back soon." Brienne averted her eyes to the half full cup, "she talks about that Jon fellow the most." Brienne said sipping the wine.

Tyrion set his cup down, "Jon Snow. I didn't think I'd hear that name for awhile. Did Sansa say how he was doing?"

"No, unfortunately the Night's Watch keep a tight lid on their personnel and activities only allowing letters to be delivered to their Lord Commander. I heard he left Castle Black over a month ago leading the wildlings beyond the wall and hasn't returned."

"Well wherever he is up north I'm sure he's happy."

Brienne sighed, "he made the right decision. There wasn't any other way."

"I know. Hopefully he understands that. If anyone deserves to be happy it's the hero of Westeros."

"Are you two gettin cozy without us?" Bronn asked appearing through the crowd dragging Sam by his collar.

"Perfect timing the wines here and we were just beginning to miss you both."

"It would've taken a minute had Sam not been reading every damn book he came across."

Sam hoisted the large trunk securing it in his grip, "I didn't anticipate my requests being delivered so soon. There's some interesting ones—"

"Yeah yeah tell me about it later. Pack the wine to go, let's not keep the king waitin."

"That's the second best idea you've had all night." Tyrion finished his cup leaving a bag full of gold coins on the table heading toward the keep with the others.

The small council entered the meeting room greeting Ser Davos the master of ships.

"For fook's sake it's about time you all show up."

"Good to see you too ol' chum." Bronn replied.

Davos smiled picking up the food's aroma, "you guys went to dinner without me? I assume that's mine then."

"Apologies Ser Davos, this is for Gilly."

"Why did I even bother to ask?" He took his seat conversing with Brienne who shared leftovers of her own.

The council members let silence overcome the spacious room awaiting their king's arrival. Tyrion broke the tense silence scooting his chair back painfully slow filling up a goblet. He sat drumming his fingers on the table, "I never got to finish our story from our inaugural meeting. I once walked into a brothel, in one hand a honeycomb in the other an ass—"

"Don't say it." Bronn said pouring a cup shaking his head, "don't fookin say it."

The doors opened drawing their gazes to Podrick wheeling their king to the table's head. "Thank you all for coming in on your days off, take your seats. You must forgive me for calling your here after dismissals this morning. I won't waste time since I'm sure you have other important matters to address. I will get right to it." The small council sat in silence studying their stoic ruler.

"Daenerys Targaryen woke up a week ago. Moments after I sent the order to retrieve you she returned to Mereen from Valirya.

Podrick stumbled back catching his balance against the wall. Bronn downed his cup quickly pouring another another cursing under his breath. Davos pinched the bridge of his nose shaking his head. Sam tightened his fists staring at the table unbelieving the person who burned his father and brother was alive. Aside from a heavy sigh Brienne gave no outward indication of how the news affected her. Tyrion's hands refused to listen to him shaking profusely as he failed to grasp the goblet setting it down.

Bronn's chair slid back alerting the room, "I gotta get the hell out of here. The dragon queen is going to fly over in a few days and burn us alive. All due respect your grace I fought a dragon once and watched my men die, I prefer to keep my life."

"Have you lost your mind! Sit down you imbecile, you'll be no safer in Highgarden or here in the keep."

"I agree with Bronn, I have to get Gilly. I could hide her in Hornhill, it wouldn't feel right keeping her here."

"I'm likin the cut of your jib Tarly."

"Sit down both of you." Bran commanded forcing them into their chairs, "Daenerys isn't returning to Westeros. I would've spoken it into existence weeks ago when she first awoke and taken the necessary preparations."

Tyrion gulped unable to drink, "your grace we should've been notified immediately, hundreds of thousands of peoples' lives could've been in danger. I think we had the right to know the moment Daenerys woke."

"No offense to any of us but I'm sure if we were told the information would've found a way to the people and caused an uproar. I'm more curious your grace, how did you know she wouldn't come to Westeros?" Davos asked.

"As I said she traveled to Valirya when she first awoke. Drogon and his mother's physical condition are too poor at the moment to fly half way across the world. Drogon is in worse shape, he flew north, far beyond the wall that I lost sight of him in the receding blizzards. When Drogon emerged a few days later Daenerys was completely encased in ice before the trip to Volantis." Bran paused glancing at the small council, "I watched her during her week long stay in the Targaryen's once glorious homeland. She observed the stonemen tribes living there relishing that they worshipped her as a goddess."

"Since they're stonemen surely she didn't come into contact with them." Tyrion said eyeing the king.

"She burned them."

The room stilled into an uncomfortable silence, "I'm not able to see everything. My powers are vast but not omnipotent. I meant it when I said there needed to be a master of spies, it's time to meet him."

Everyone turned their attention to the door nearly losing their breath, "Varys..." Tyrion absentmindedly knocked over his cup quickly cleaning up the mess.

"I needed someone who had connections across all lands not just in Westeros; meet Varys the spider." Tyrion didn't take his attention away from the spitting image of his deceased friend. Everything from the graceful strides, the serene stoic gaze always guarding emotions, to the clothing he wore and even physical traits—a near perfect carbon copy.

"I'm honored to join you all on the small council in service to the six kingdoms. The Varys you knew was more than a mentor to me. He was more a father figure to all his little birds, I simply happened to be the big bird. He confided in me his growing concerns about the dragon queen before he left Essos ordering me to await his next message. Unfortunately I received his final will a day before the burning of King's Landing. In the event of his untimely death he named me his successor to serve the realm in his name."

"Welcome to the club we're all a buncha merry fucks." Bronn said refilling his glass.

"You look like him, you walk like him, hell you talk exactly identical to him. I assume you were required to become a eunuch remaining immune to life's addictive pleasures. Even if you carry that name, you will never be Varys."

Varys offered a smile, "my mentor talked highly about the great Tyrion Lannister. He considered you a close friend and trusted confidant, yet birds from Dragonstone tell me it was you who betrayed him to save yourself from judgement."

"We don't have time for this." Bran's voice broke their stare down. "Lord Varys has reports from Essos's free cities. He serves as my eyes and ears among the people."

Varys bowed taking a seat, "once again it's a great honor serving you your grace. Essos is still practicing slavery now more than it's ever been—"

"Then it seems my seven years plan went to shit."

"On the contrary Lord Tyrion, the Dragon Bay cities surrounding Meereen; Yunkai, Astapor, New Ghis, and Mantarys are pushing forward the plan to two years. The cities are doubling down on their loyalty to the queen. citizens, masters, and slaves are peacefully easing into a coexisting free society."

"I see. Those cities aside from Meereen aren't major players in the power struggle for control over Essos. That's one way to attract numerous enemies." Davos said.

"Right you are Ser Davos Seaworth, the dragon bay cities are caravanning toward Meereen in droves to see their beloved queen return. I assure you Daenerys Targaryen has a lot bigger problems at her doorstep than a grudge war against an ailing Westeros that clearly neither side is prepared for."

"They're planning to kill her." Sam said surprising the others, "the major city states: Qarth, Braavos, Myr, Pentos, Volantis, Lorath, Lys, Tyrosh, Norvos, and Qohor have practiced slavery since the beginning of written history. It's something too ingratiated into their culture to cut out forcefully in only a few years."

"As more information is received I will keep you updated. It remains Daenerys isn't a threat to the realm at the moment." Varys added.

The room released a collective sigh feeling less tense than moments earlier, "alright let's say I believe you. The dragon queen isn't comin. We need a contingency plan in case of an emergency." Bronn said.

Not to worry." Bran said. "I hand selected a ballistic and weaponry engineering team to calibrate several deficiencies and flaw designs in the bastillas lining the city walls. They implemented the design to work the way it's counterpart the scorpion moves. The large iron clad arrows are now chambered carrying three shots before a reload. The cables have been reinforced to neutralize a dragon long enough to drag it outside the gates before striking with our trebuchet catapults. During my reign I intend to never see this city burned again."

"That's goddamn brilliant your grace, I think I'll stick around." Bronn toasted Bran earning a semblance of a smile.

"There is another I wanted to talk about since summoning you here." Bran said.

"Another threat your grace?" Brienne asked.

"No, I'm talking about Bran Stark's cousin Jon Snow."

"Jon is alive and well isn't he? I felt like I haven't seen him ages." Sam grinned hearing of his oldest and first friend knowing he was doing what he does best.

"I was most pleasantly surprised hearing of his progress, Lord Varys give the small council an update."

The master of spies smiled folding his sleeves together, "my birds tell me the king beyond the wall is changing life for the wildlings as well as the Night's Watch. Hardhome has emerged amongst the ruin standing as a capital and trading town establishing a trade route to Whiteharbor. His caravan survived tremendous ordeals to journey north; they were ambushed by a vicious pack wolfpack that killed off his strongest warriors. Many men, women, and children lost their lives in a raid by a cannibalistic Thenn tribe led by the brutal Horace the chained who was slain by the king himself.

As of recently he's been establishing more settlements aiding his people while also overseeing the wall's refortification using ice blocks from the frozen seas and lakes left in the walker's wake. Unfortunately he is no longer acting lord commander yet he aims to reinforce the vacant sixteen castles manning the wall; Westwatch-by-the-bridge, The Nightfort and Greyguard to name a few."

"Excellent, thank you Lord Varys," Bran said turning to the others, "soon it will be time to bring Jon Snow back to Westeros."

"Your grace," Sam drew the three eye raven's attention, "I've never questioned your decisions, nor will I, it's just..."

"Finish your thought grand maester."

Sam wiped a brow glancing at the council, "I sent out the letters at your order to the rulers of the seven kingdoms decreeing to deny Jon Snow's request for prisoners, volunteers, and disgraced lords to aid the Watch. I may be a grand maester now, I started out as a ranger and will always be one until my dying day. Had it not been for Jon I wouldn't be sitting here serving you, all us wouldn't for that matter. I'm asking you your grace, to reconsider your stance on the Watch's proposition."

Bran didn't blink staring at the opposite wall. "Your concern is understandable Samwell Tarly. However we can't spare anymore people to the Watch, we need to prioritize rebuilding the capital while we strengthen our military. Helping Jon Snow isn't our responsibility."

"You got nothin to worry about on my end, I tore the proposal up throwin it in my fireplace." Bronn smirked uncorking a wine bottle pouring another glass.

"I denied his request, the Westerlands can't afford to lose anymore citizens or work induced criminals. As much as I respect him, the fact of the matter is there are no resources to spare." Tyrion said.

"I'll take any punishment your grace," Davos said, "I took the liberty sparing the Night's Watch three ships at his request. It's the least I could do after all he's done for me."

"You did the right thing Ser Davos, there is no punishment necessary since ships is something we have plenty." Bran ran his gaze over the small council, "I want to switch gears for a moment. We need to gather all major houses in Westeros; the North, Vale, Stormlands, Riverlands, The Reach, Dorne, Iron Islands, Westerlands, and our very own Crownlands. It's time to hold the summit to rally all banners here. We need to keep peace in Westeros. I intend not to make the same mistakes our past families have done."

"Very good your grace the messages will be sent to all the prestige houses in the coming days." Varys said bowing.

"Well said." Tyrion toasted Bran downing the wine.

"Sounds like one giant party, can't wait."

"That concludes everything I wanted to discuss with you all. We'll resume our normal schedule, have a great rest of your holiday." Podrick wheeled Bran out the doors leaving the council meeting.

Sam stood first, "I really should get home, I don't want to leave Gilly home alone for too long." Brienne and Davos left with Sam while the rest stayed.

"Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot." Tyrion said coming to stand next to Varys.

Varys nodded, "your reaction is justified considering what happened to my late predecessor. His letter proved prophetic about the events that transpired. Knowing him like I did he was content to sacrifice his life to protect the realm, and more importantly a cherished friend."

Tyrion smiled dropping his head, he didn't deserve to be called the previous Vary's friend. He always felt he took something from him never giving anything in return for his aid over the years. He didn't think he could change but it was never to late to try in his late friend's honor. "Even though we just met, I have missed you dearly."

Varys smiled folding his sleeves together, "Somehow, I know old friend."

Bronn surprised the pair placing a hand on their shoulders, "since you don't have a cock or balls I assume you can't fuck girls right?"

"I'm far past the distraction of lust or sexual attractions. I've seen countless men in Lys succumb to the madness only to never be found...At least alive."

"I'll never understand Eunuchs." Bronn shook his head, "you do drink don't you?"

"That I do partake in, there's nothing more enjoyable than expanding my pallet and love of delectable wines throughout the lands."

Tyrion smiled widely for what felt like the first time in a longtime, "I really have missed you Varys. We have a long night ahead of us, there is much to catch up on." Tyrion said leading the lords to the keep's entrance.

"Sleep well my king." Podrick tucked Bran in halting at the doorway.

"What is it Podrick?"

"Did you really know Daenerys Targaryen wouldn't come to Westeros?" Podrick waited at the door patiently shutting it after a few moments realizing he wouldn't receive an answer.

Bran stared at the ceiling rolling his irises and pupils back leaving the milky white sclerosis visible. He astral projected his conscious free sending it through the castle walls high above King's Landing entering a raven. Bran exhaled in sync with the bird's respiratory system being able to see through its eyes and feel everyone of its movements. The raven spread its wings soaring along the King's Road leaving night behind entering the north's morning fog. Bran sped past a bustling Winterfell emerging from the clouds descending onto Castle Black.

A watchmen guard stepped off the wall lift, "open the gates!" He yelled narrowly dodging a raven flying past his head. "I hate fucking birds."

Jon and his four man ranger squad were bombarded by watchmen eager to see the first ranger return. He descended from his horse handing her to a steward thanking him for the gesture. The ranger greeted his brothers who were eager to converse about his adventures. Jon introduced the recruits slipping past the crowd heading toward their barracks.

"Jon," Noah called halting his tracks, "what should we do?" He asked as the others waited instruction.

"You're fully-fledged rangers, you've all taken your vows. You guys can start by training the others."

"Training? That won't help. A warrior only gets stronger by killing in the heat of a life or death battle." Eli replied.

"You guys are loud. If you got something to say they'll listen. Try to at least sound like you know what you're talking about."

"Where the hell are you going?" Solomon questioned.

"I'm meeting with the lord commander. Don't get comfortable, we're not staying." Jon said. He strode toward the barrack stairs stopping to stare at a raven cawing at him from above. He studied its milky white eyes shaking his head leaving the bird behind.

"Come in." Denys Mallister called hearing knocks at the door. "Please have a seat Jon Snow I will be with you momentarily."

Jon nodded taking a chair folding his hands over his lap noticing the spotless office and the personal touches from the veteran commander. He picked up a silver eagle off the desk examining it curiously. He only had the honor of meeting Ser Mallister during election time and knew next to nothing about the man except his phenomenal thirty three service years commanding the Shadow Tower.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't meddle with my belongings young sir." Denys said facing the bookshelf rummaging through drawers.

Jon fumbled the silver quickly recovering setting it on the desk. "This place used to be emptier, it has a lot more things then I remember."

"You disapprove?"

Jon sat up straighter, "not at all, I only meant—"

"It's fine Lord Snow, I know what you mean. An aging man like me has time to decorate his office in peace time." Denys met Jon's gaze for the first time, "my men and I were fortunate to escape unscathed from the dead. At least that's what I had thought the moment we received news the Long Night ended."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean lord commander."

"Seeing an upstart like you so adamant about becoming lord commander was inspiring...I heard what Allistor Thorne and his loyalists did to you that night they had branded you a traitor...You and me both know you should be in my seat."

He didn't think about those times, the act of betrayal was the lowest point in his life. The dead were an after thought, he didn't care if the darkness swept through the land. "It's your seat now. I left my position handing the title to Eddison Tollett. When I left for Winterfell I accepted I'll never be lord commander again."

Denys shut the drawer taking his seat placing a stack of letters on the desk, "I understand completely, you enjoy being beyond the wall. What you detailed in your report inspired our remaining forces. You changed the Watchmen brotherhood and the Wildlings lives for the better. I trust your judgement Lord Snow, I'll help you in anyway I can."

Jon smiled warmly, "you've done enough. I'll let you know when something comes up."

"Good to hear," Denys returned the smile tearing the binding string from the letters, "I apologize for the wait, let's get to it shall we?" He asked rhetorically slashing the paper knife across the first letter's top.

"This first one is from Dorne," Jon waited patiently as the lord commander scanned his eyes over the paper, "Doran Martell denied the request." Denys tossed it aside opening another one.

"Ser Bronn Lord Paramount of the Reach." Jon's features remained neutral unfamiliar with the name. "Denied."

Jon shifted in his seat remaining hopeful, "Tyrion Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, and Warden of the West..."

"I know Tyrion he probably—"

"Denied." Denys threw the letter aside moving on. Jon furrowed his brows unsure of what to expect from the others.

"Gendry Lord of Storm's End, denied."

"Yara Greyjoy, Lord Reaper of Pyke, ruler of the Iron Islands, denied."

"Robin Arryn Lord of the Vale, Warden of the East, denied." Denys placed a hand on his forehead growing frustrated himself.

"Edmure Tully-"

Jon perked up, "The blackfish is my uncle surely he—"

"Denied."

Jon sat back placing a hand over his mouth guarding his frustration. "The king of the Six Kingdoms, Bran the Broken has denied any aid to us, we're on our own Lord Snow."

His hopes were sunk. After sacrificing everything for the realm he thought they would've at least designated one kingdom to aid him. Instead they avoided him like a plague, it begged the question if they even gave a shit. He would have to overcome the odds as he had previously without the aid of Westeros. Jon stood preparing to depart, "a moment first ranger, there's a letter from the North."

Jon narrowed his eyes at the floor, "you don't need to tell me, I already know what it says." He couldn't take another rejection especially from the North. He understood if Sansa wanted nothing to do with him, her life would be less complicated. It made all the sense in the world yet he couldn't bear to hear it even in a letter.

"Sansa Stark Queen and Wardeness in the North approved your request. She sent also sent a letter addressed to you."

Jon froze in place staring incredulously at the letter in the commander's hand, "may I?"

"Of course-" Denys blinked as Jon took the letter running a hand over the direwolf wax seal. He read Sansa's letter smiling at the written words. He folded the letter tucking it safely in his satchel. "I almost forgot you grew up in the Stark household, you must be close to them."

"They're my family."

"Happy to hear that Jon. The wardeness is going out of her way to help you. I'm surprised to hear the North is prospering more than under the rule of your uncle Lord Eddard Stark, gods rest his soul."

The smile refused to leave his face, "It doesn't surprise me Lord Mallister the North got the best leader they could've asked for."

"It looks that way," the aging commander matched the younger man's smile rising from his seat, "the first recruits should be arriving in only days. I need to report this to Watch's council. Make yourself at home I look forward to seeing you return from your scouting expedition."

"I appreciate it lord commander."

Denys held the door open turning to Jon, "what do you expect to find traveling that far north Lord Snow?"

"Nothing."

The lord commander nodded pinning the eagle to hold his clock leaving the ranger alone. Jon read Sansa's letter memorizing the words. It shattered any preconceived notions he had about her not wanting him returning to Winterfell. He traced his hand against the perfect handwriting noticing the small ink blots where she had paused contemplating what to say. He grinned imaging her furrowed brow showing she was in focused concentration. Jon read the lines telling him about her dreams of their family reuniting someday. "I'll come home Sansa...We'll all reunite soon."

Something did trouble him in her letter however that he couldn't ignore. Sansa talked about Arya and her exchanging letters. Based on what he read Sansa was waiting for the next letter which missed its expected arrival time by a week. He tried not to worry about Arya; she was a fierce warrior in her own right, the last thing she needed was protection. Still something didn't feel right but he couldn't charge headfirst after her without knowing what was going on.

Jon shook his head, "We're worrying too much, Arya can handle anything thrown her way." The ranger stood heading to the barracks preparing for the ride north.

The five rangers left the wall riding ahead toward the keep passing Whitetree. Jon didn't know the rangers in his squad very well and neither did they him. He asked on occasion if they had families before the world went to shit. Other than that he didn't take much an interest, there wasn't a need to. The crimes they'd committed spoke for themselves and their choosing the path of Night's Watch ranger spoke volumes. They wouldn't find redemption, they were putting their lives on the line for something bigger than themselves. A ranger's duty could not be taken lightly. It didn't matter who they were, where they came from, or what they believed in. They would all die protecting each other in the name of the brotherhood—that's all that mattered.

The sun dropped hours earlier before the five man squad arrived at the newly constructed community. Wildlings from all over the north gathered here to trade goods, receive a night's rest for their journey or simply to socialize with others using it as a midway point to meet up.

Jon dismounted first hitching his stallion at the horse post. Tormund met the group outside chugging from a horn, "bout time you show up, good to see you Snow."

He shook Tormund's hand keeping him upright. "Same to you my friend."

"You guys took the oath huh? Don't regret it when you die." Tormund offered a small smile, "now that you're rangers no one will kill ya...I think." He gestured them to follow him to the keep's entrance.

"Here they are." Tormund patted Joseph's shoulder heading into the well lit rowdy keep.

"Good to see you again your grace."

"Jon's fine. This place looks a lot better than it used to, I'm impressed."

Joseph chuckled admiring the community his group built, "its thanks to you Jon. Are these your rangers you wrote about?"

"Aye: Eli, Kaid, Noah, and the big guy's Solomon."

"I see." Joseph stepped past Jon studying the men. "Your welcome to stay. When we first settled on this land I gave my word to our king any ranger passing through is guaranteed a nights stay and a warm meal. Though not everyone may be happy about the given circumstances I trust our king more than anyone. He took a chance on you, so will I." Joseph shook each of their hands as they gave thanks heading inside.

Jon sat on the keep's far end sharpening Longclaw using a whetstone watching the others celebrate their freedom playing instruments and dancing around the fires. "Your grace," Jon glanced up at a group of several Hornfoots, "Xander sent us to aid you on your journey north as you had requested."

"You don't have to go, there's a chance we will all die there. You sure your up for it?"

"We know the risks." One of them spoke, "we owe you for allowing us to live freely in the Frostfangs."

"Of course, you'll never have to owe me for that. I'm happy to have you guys, celebrate while you can, we leave before dawn." He said continuing his sharpening watching them join in the festivities.

Jon slipped Longclaw in it's scabbard setting it next to him. His chest tightened reaching into his satchel reading Sansa's letter again, he would be happy to read it over and over.

"_I wish to see you again Jon, your family too. Winterfell is yours as much as its ours. Come home soon, love Sansa." _

Sansa didn't hate him. This whole time he feared she would tell him to stay away and the North was better off without his presence. The trepidation about returning home dissipated being replaced by a pure feeling of joy.

Jon tucked the letter when Tormund planted in the seat next to him. "What're you reading Snow? It's important since you're not celebrating."

"It's a letter from Sansa." Jon's eyes widened as Tormund snatched the paper away squinting to read it's contents. Jon swiped it from the intoxicated lieutenant, "it's personal, besides you can't read."

"What does it say?"

"You were right, I owe it to them to do all I can for the Starks. I'm going to Winterfell to reunite my family some day."

Tormund slapped Jon's back roughly, "what did I fucking tell ya. Let's get this scouting expedition over with. I'll be rollin in the hay with Brienne of Tarth soon enough." Tormund shoved Jon drinking greedily pushing his way through the crowd.

Jon smiled at the rowdy groups dancing around the fire pits not a care in the world. His smile widened at the sight of Noah being hoisted to his feet by a young woman dancing nervously earning laughs from his comrades.

Sansa was right. He was a believer in her words, she proved a lot smarter than him. If he'd taken their heads that night it would have been a waste of life. Instead they were here, laughing and cheering dedicating their lives to cause bigger than themselves. "Even when I don't deserve it you go out of your way to help me." Jon shut his eyes wishing to see Sansa once more to thank her for everything she did. Mostly he wanted their family to reunite in Winterfell.

The four rangers snores among wildlings ignoring first light beaming through the walls. Jon kicked them awake as they sat up groggily taking in their surroundings. "Get up." The first ranger said, "Hornfoots already began loading their boats on the carts, get a move on."

The rangers and hornfoots grabbed ahold of the carts pulling toward Milkwater's southwestern shore leaving the keep. The groups kept to themselves seeing the river ahead.

"Tormund," Jon called summoning the lieutenant to his side, "take the horses and cross here. We'll meet you in a few days time. Head west at Fist of the First Men, through the Giant's Stairs until the river ends."

"I'll do it, on one condition—"

"You want to go to Winterfell."

Tormund's eyes widened staring at Jon, "stop reading my mind Snow."

"I don't need to be a mind reader to know what you're thinking about. See you in a day." The first ranger watched the horses ride off with Tormund before helping the others drag the boats along the shore.

"How much further sir?" Noah asked dragging his feet.

"Not much, see those rapids branching off into the Frostfangs men? That's where we need to go."

"AYE!" The ranger's boat disembarked first pushing from the banks of the river. Jon secured the rope ensuring it wouldn't break from the Hornfoot's vessel. The boats flowed toward the western rapids diverging from the northern route.

"Hold on everyone." Jon steered from the back moving the convoy into the rapidly flowing water holding the sides. Waves crashed against their boats sending them jetting atop the currents racing across the river.

The currents slowed gradually as the hours passed calming the warriors. They sat in silence vigilant to their surroundings ready for anything. Noah glanced around the boats noting the somber mood, "In the boozer you're a dead man, you'll get hurt and lose your shirt, sit there freezing and shivering." He sang surprising the others. "Ol' lucky lady your largesse is shoddy, you deceive us, then make us angry, make us gamble, make us fight, and stay in the cold till mornin."

"Brrr!" The men sang, "the naked loser moans when he's cold and left alone, shakes and shivers as he groans—"

"Come on sir, you know the words." Noah said continuing to lead the singing.

"I don't." He deadpanned. The King in the North smiled witnessing the comrades link arms rocking side to side. "But now lets roll dice and gamble again," Jon sang joining his squad mates, "and win some drinking money! Who thinks about the winter rain while its warm and sunny."

The soldiers sang, drank, and laughed until night came and gone. Jon didn't sleep as he held one hand on the rotor while reading Sansa's letter in the other. A feeling of happiness came over him before the boat rocked violently stirring the men awake. Jon reached out for the letter as the wind carried it out of reach landing in the rushing water. He ignored the sharp pang in his chest standing to see rapids rushing faster. "Wake up men! Row the oars, rapids ahead!"

The groups scrambled thrown back from the water's forceful waves. Keeping their balance they steered the boats away from the rocky mountain terrain surrounding them. "Solomon take the rotor, Noah hold the rope, Eli, Kaid, don't stop rowing we need to avoid the rocks or we're dead."

Jon stood at the boat's front seeing the end of the river through treacherous white waters. Boulders descended down the mountainside on their right forcing them into action. The rapids declined causing the boats to pick up more speed hurling toward the half submerged rocks. "Hold on!" The Hornfoot's boat barreled into the rangers immobilizing evasive maneuvers rendering the group helpless against the forceful currents. Jon could see they weren't going to make it to the end, "Brace!" He yelled as the boats smashed into the rocks protruding the surface throwing everyone overboard.

A lone deer emerged from the trees approaching the serene river bank calmly drinking the river. It's ears twitched staring at the rapids ahead. The buck prepared to drink again bowing its head. Jon gasped breaking through the water's surface scaring the animal away. He climbed onto the bank collecting his breath watching the others appear pulling one another to land.

"I-I thought I was gunna die." Kaid said heaving on the ground.

"You kidding? That ain't enough to kill a bastard like you." Solomon pulled him to his feet as everyone regrouped.

"Where are the horses? Our supplies?!" A Hornfoot asked glancing around the near mountain range.

"This way." Jon said pointing toward a trail tucked between the trees, "we're not far from the rendezvous point." Jon led the men through trees admiring the wildlife ecosystem migrating east seeking warmer climates. They came to a snowy clearing stretching for miles noticing their horses next to a camp. The warriors regained morale seeing Tormund's successful venture joining the lieutenant around the fire exchanging stories of their time apart.

Jon couldn't sleep. He lost the only thing holding him to the Starks. He sighed pulling out Mance's black and red cloak throwing it over his shoulders shutting his eyes to rest.

"WALKER! THERE'S A WHITE WALKER COMING!"

The first ranger was the first out of his tent. Noah jumped off his horse sprinting for the groggy group.

"Catch your breath then speak boy." Tormund said holding him up.

"There's a white...Coming from the west."

The group raised their torches illuminating the nearby area racing across the cold desert unveiling Dragonglass weaponry pushing their horses to the limit.

"There! Its coming!" Noah shouted turning the group's attention to a looming shadow stalking toward them.

"Be prepared for anything men." Jon's heart raced unsheathing Longclaw. He would end the white walkers for good, there was no other reason he traveled this far north into uncharted no man's land. The group prepped their weapons to strike when the figure stepped into the light revealing itself.

Jon sheathed his sword raising a hand up approaching the familiar man riding atop an undead polar bear, "Uncle Benjen."

"I finally found you nephew." He said flashing a grin hopping off the yawning bear.

"An undead polar bear? This some sort of fucking ruse?" Eli questioned turning to the others.

"I've been waiting for you Jon."

"I knew you were alive." Jon said breaking the embrace.

"I'm technically dead, though not alive either, I'm something in between." He offered a smile waving to the group, "Benjen Stark, a pleasure to meet you all."

Tormund knelt at Benjen's feet, "I'm not worthy to stand in your presence."

"What the hell are you going on about Tormund?"

"Do you know how many ballsy warriors I seen get their fuckin guts ripped from em trying to tame a polar bear? This isn't a man Snow, your a man. This...This is a god." Tormund bowed his head pleading Benjen to teach him.

"I like this one." Benjen smiled watching Jon run a hand over his face.

Benjen bid the last Hornfoot a good rest placing another log on the fire relishing its warmth and having real company for a change after months in isolation. "You can have my tent Uncle Benjen, I don't plan on getting much sleep."

Benjen smiled closing his eyes, "you need your rest Jon. I haven't needed sleep since this happened to me. The children put a stop to the walker's magic turning me into this."

"You're still Uncle Benjen to me." Jon said grateful to see his admired uncle again. "When this expedition ends we should return to Winterfell and see everyone."

Benjen sighed unable to dampen his nephew's excitement. The wall's magic prevented him from passing through, he was forced to stay beyond the wall until the day it came crashing down. He stared at the moon through the darkness turning to Jon, "how is everyone? I know Bran is the Three Eyed Raven. I've seen you grow from a boy into a man, I can assume the rest are okay."

Jon grimaced knowing how much his uncle missed out on. He told everything about the deaths of the Starks who lived within Winterfell's walls the night before departing to Castle Black. Jon was taken aback witnessing silent tears streaming down his cheeks. "Happen to have a drink on ya?"

Jon handed him his cup watching him guzzle the northern alcohol. The younger man gave his uncle a few minutes to process everything, "would you mind telling me about them? Arya, Sansa, and Bran."

The ranger relaxed sitting back staring at the stars decorating the sky, "Bran..."

Benjen listened to the tale sitting back releasing a laugh, "The Three Eyed Raven became ruler of the Six Kingdoms huh? I didn't imagine things would turn out like that when I aided him up here awhile ago."

"You saw Bran beyond the wall?"

Benjen nodded, "I saved him and Howland Reed's daughter."

"I heard that name before."

"Howland Reed was a trusted friend of my brother. He swore to secrecy when Ned brought you back from Dorne."

"Is he alive?"

"I assume he is. Ned sent letters to him over the years inviting him to Winterfell. He's comfortable as Lord of Greywater Watch and refuses to leave the neck ruling over the Crannogmen." Benjen took the second cup Jon offered drinking it steadily, "tell me about Arya."

Jon stared at the fire warming his hands, "Arya..."

A wide grin came over the former first ranger's features hearing his youngest niece slain the Night King. "I certainly didn't expect that, I would've bet on you defeating him."

"I wasn't strong enough, wasn't prepared as much as I thought. Arya was ready, she can adapt to any situation life throws her way."

"She sounds just like your mother, I would like to see her again."

Jon smile faltered slightly, "did you know Uncle Benjen? About me?"

Benjen met Jon's gaze, your mother told me how much she despised her betrothal to Robert Baratheon and that she loved Rhaegar Targaryen. My brother and I fought several times over the years. I couldn't stand seeing you treated like a bastard when you were my sister's child."

"Even if my father is Rhaegar I'm relieved my mother isn't some tavern whore like others told me growing up. She was a true born Stark, a good and brave person." Benjen sighed contently seeing Jon come to terms with his parentage.

"You're a Stark too Jon. You don't have the name but you have our blood. Always remember that."

The words mirrored those spoken by the man he considered to be his father. "I will Uncle Benjen, I'll never forget."

Benjen's smile grew, "tell me about Sansa. I'm sure my eldest niece is running the North justly and is a great beauty like her mother."

Jon stared near his feet unable to look at his uncle, "Sansa..."

Benjen grimaced hearing his reunion with Sansa and the reclamation of Winterfell. "Roose always hated us Starks. I didn't dare to think he'd take it out on the first born daughter of Ned and Cat." Benjen sighed heavily seeing Jon's expression, "the Bolton boy did something terrible to her didn't he?"

Jon's fists clenched threatening to tear his gloves. He exhaled feeling Benjen's hand settle on his shoulder, "I had a chance to stop it Uncle Benjen...Stannis Baratheon offered me a chance to reclaim Winterfell. I refused him and it nearly got Sansa killed; I could've prevented it all from happening...It's my fault, yet she's helping me when I don't deserve it."

"It's not wise to think this way Jon. You couldn't have known how things would play out. You were right where you should have been. Had you taken what Stannis proposed, the dragon queen would be ruling a pile of ashes formerly known as Westeros. You shouldn't blame yourself Jon, I'm sure Sansa doesn't."

"I'm not sure sometimes. I think their lives would be better without me."

"That's not true Jon. You're family, the wolf pack sticks together. I'm sure they love you very much."

Benjen broke the momentarily silence, "and the dragon queen? You also share her blood."

"When I believed I was still a bastard I loved her, I really did. It wasn't real...We pretended to see the best in each other finding love through our shared blood. In the end she couldn't escape her nature."

"Do you still love her?"

Jon nodded, "in a way I do, I always will. She was my family too."

Benjen relaxed smiling once more, "so, I can't imagine you didn't keep the Watch's celibacy vow. Who was the lucky girl?"

"A wildling girl I was close to during my captivity in Mance's army."

"Her name?"

"Ygritte."

"What color hair?"

"Red." Benjen laughed shaking his head, "what's so funny Uncle Benjen?"

"You remind me of Ned. He said the thing when he was first betrothed to Catelyn."

Jon smirked, "you miss him don't you?"

"Yes very much. Just wish I got to say my goodbyes."

"Me too." The pair stared at the rising light peaking through the mountains realizing they stayed up talking all night.

"Already the start of a new day," Benjen said rising to his feet, "ready to start your training?"

Jon arched a brow, "training? Uncle I don't really—"

"Glad to hear it, let's head out before your comrades wake. If you want to change things in a big way, you need to make big changes."

Jon drew Longclaw enjoying the isolation to duel Benjen. "This is where you wanted to go? Way out here?"

"Beyond the wall is where warriors start over, where they're reborn."

Jon glanced around the barren wasteland, "looks like hell to me."

"Since you're going to hell might as well get used to it. Shall we begin?" Jon charged at Benjen clashing Valyrian and ice. The two parried one another's swings in a deadlock struggle for an advantage.

The group moved during the day riding their horses until night. They laughed drinking until passing out leaving only Benjen and Jon. When the sun rose over the horizon Benjen took Jon out to an isolated spot handing him a heavy steel sledgehammer.

"Go on, start hammerin." Benjen said backing away watching Jon slam the sledge repeatedly sending ice chunks flying.

"You want me to run after you on the bear?"

Benjen nodded, "I suggest shedding anything that could hinder you."

Jon discarded his top clothing keeping pants and boots on leaving Longclaw atop his cloak chasing after the fleeing polar bear.

"What're we doing here?"

"Not all training is physical Jon. Your brute strength and ferocity isn't something concerning me. Have you heard of Ser Arthur Dayne?"

"Only from stories. Father beat him in single combat."

Benjen shook his head, "Howland Reed fatally wounded him when he had his back turned during their duel. Your father told me not long after it happened to clear his conscience."

"I always believed my father to be the best swordsman second only to Ser Barriston Selmy. I wanted to be great just like him."

"Not taking anything away from my brother, Ser Dayne was arguably the best fighter in recent Westorian history. He didn't overwhelm his opponents using strength or raw power." Benjen's ice sword appeared in his hand shattering like glass when he struck the rock formation. "Now observe the difference." Benjen's sword reappeared slicing a chunk of the boulder off.

"You didn't strike hard as the first swing yet managed to cut through the rock."

"A good assessment. It's about precise focus when striking. Your sword is merely an extension of your arm reflecting your will." He remembered unknowingly using the technique in the Battle of Hardhome deflecting the walker's ice sword able to parry shattering the weapons like glass. Having a Valyrian steel sword evened the playing field, his will allowed him to win.

Jon struck Longclaw against the rock clanging against its surface. "Try again Jon, focus." The ranger felt his sword's weight closing his eyes slicing through the rocky surface. "Better, still have a ways to go." Benjen said placing a hand under his chin watching Jon struggle to free his sword from the formation. "Have you ever considered dual wielding?

"No I haven't." Jon said placing a foot on the rock leveraging to release his sword.

"One step at a time." Benjen helped Jon pull Longclaw free sending him to the ground.

Over the next days Benjen and Jon continued their early routine intensifying the training before resuming their journey north. Jon spared with Benjen, hammered the ice, chased after the polar bear, and practiced his focused swings religiously. Tormund jumped on the undead bear only for it to throw him off, "I'm gunna ride you, you beautiful fucking beast." He released a war cry charging once more.

Jon parried sending his uncle skidding on ice, "have you realized it yet nephew? The training means nothing, will is everything." Benjen put Jon on his guard attempting to find an opening pushing the younger man back, "the will to act."

Benjen slipped Longclaw from its owners grip forcing him to roll evading a direct pierce to recover his blade. He turned striking Benjen's blade knocking him to the ice, "yield uncle."

Benjen chuckled, "you haven't won, you sacrificed secure footing to kill me." Jon fell through the cut ice into the frozen lake.

"Warm your chest, your arms will take care of themselves." He said tossing twigs into the fire. "You're stronger than your father Jon. I know the rage that drives you an impossible anger strangling the grief until the memory of your lost loved ones just, poisoning your veins, and one day you catch yourself wishing the person you loved never existed so you'll be spared your pain." Benjen met Jon's gaze, "your anger gives you great power. If you let it, it will destroy you."

"What's your reason to fight Jon?"

"To protect others who can't de—"

"Your real reason."

Jon knitted his brows clutching the white wolf hilt, "I'm fighting for myself, to get stronger. More than anything I want to protect my family."

Benjen smiled contently, "let's continue where we left off."

Jon chased after the bear for what felt like miles. His legs gave out as he fell quickly recovering still giving chase. Benjen halted seeing Jon collapse to the ice from pure exhaustion. "Come on Jon, get up. Get up. That's it." Benjen said witnessing the king rise with a renewed determination brewing beneath his eyes pursuing the bear across the land.

Days later he began running in front of the bear at a reasonable pace building more stamina than ever before. His fierce sword strikes became sharper, deadlier, and faster able to cut through the hardest surfaces with relative ease. Jon blocked Benjen's sword shattering it and disarming the other kicking Benjen to the ground offering him a hand up. Benjen laughed taking his hand, "you got it Jon!"

The Hornfoots and rangers watched Jon in awe. He sprinted in front of the polar bear keeping a consistent distance, "run little crow run!" Tormund yelled behind Benjen chugging from his horn spilling most on the bear. Everyone celebrated that night realizing they were reaching the journey's crescendo.

On the following day they rode reaching a tall mountainous plateau with a frozen waterfall placed in the center. The group had arrived at the world's edge. They left their horses using spikes and grappling hook scaling the low mountain. Reaching the top proved disappointing, there wasn't anything but snow pillars and an empty court yard where the walkers brought newborns to raise as their own.

"There ain't nothin here." Tormund said as they continued searching the area.

"Find something Uncle Benjen?" He nodded leading the group to a bridge overlooking a canyon. The two squads crossed coming to stand in front of a cave larger than any seen previously.

"I bet an ice dragon lives in there." Noah said earning a punch to the shoulder from Tormund.

"Only one way to find out." Jon and company lit torches preparing their Dragonglass weapons and explosive powder to act as a flare in case of an emergency. Everyone eyed each other entering the darkness journeying into the unknown.

It felt like hours until they came to their first obstacle. A gap too wide to jump stopped them from delving deeper into the cave. Jon tossed his grappling line hooking it to the cave ceiling securing it tightly. He swung across patiently waiting for the others. He whipped around guiding the torch toward darkness, the feeling of being watched was too familiar to be ignored. "Hey Jon I need a light."

"Alright." He said glancing uncertainly toward the abyss before turning back to the group watching them cross. They paid no mind to side passages staying on the central path. Falling rocks caused the group to turn back the way they came raising their torches.

Noah's screams forced the men to pursue him heading deeper into the caves. They halted seeing a light at the end of the tunnel approaching cautiously unsure of what they were dealing with. Stepping into the illuminated chamber they noticed Noah slumped against the far wall.

"Jon." Benjen called while the others checked on Noah bringing him food and water. "Do you know what this is?" He asked approaching the horn inscribed with an indecipherable language.

"It's the horn Mance said he possessed. Sam told me this could undo the magic surrounding the wall and bring it crashing down. I thought it was a legend...The Horn of Winter."

Benjen nodded, "world's finest explorers searched for hundreds of years for this. It puzzles me how it ended up unprotected in a place like this."

"Can you read the inscriptions?"

"No, it's written in the Giant's ancestral tongue."

Noah coughed receiving pats on his back, "I swear something grabbed me, it was as big as a direwolf."

"You'd be dead had it been a wolf." Eli replied.

"I swear it—" Noah choked on the water unable to hold the food.

"Come on the food ain't that bad." Kaid said patting his back. Noah coughed out blood leaning against the wall clutching his stomach.

Jon knelt at his side placing a hand on his shoulder, "tell me what's wrong kid?"

"My s-stomach something..." he yelled tearing the shirt open revealing movement beneath his skin.

"What the fuck is going on?" A Hornfoot asked watching the rangers bring out a medical bag.

The agony became unbearable as Noah's skin contorted stretching into a round shape moving underneath the surface. "Don't tell me something's moving under his skin." Solomon said unable to remove his eyes.

"Hold still." Jon clutched his shoulder lowering the knife to Noah's skin. He cut into the flesh causing Noah to grasp his wrist screaming. "Bite down on this kid," Jon said placing a stick between his teeth, "trust me it helps." He proceeded to cut along his stomach popping out an eight legged arachnid.

A Hornfoot stomped on it staring at the others, "s-spiders, what the fuck is going on?"

"Hold it tight Solomon." Jon said wiping the knife on an alcohol cloth applying it to the wound, "get the bandages ready Eli." Jon dug in once more pulling a second fist sized spider out killing it.

"You're gunna be alright." Jon patted his shoulder reassuringly.

"There's more in me. I can feel them moving around, the legs prodding and tearing my flesh."

"It's your mind tricking you. I've been stabbed plenty of times and afterwards I—" Jon tore his gaze away unable to look at him.

"You saw them in my head didn't you?"

Jon held his shoulder, "you're gunna be fine, take a minute." He was hallucinating, the sight of Noah's head crawling was something he had to put out of his mind—he needed sleep.

"I think we can scale this wall and reach the top. It's directly above so it may be difficult. If I can create a line we can make it." Kaid said stating his case to Jon.

"You're our best climber, we're counting on you."

"It beats the alternative. We don't know what the fucks in these caves." Tormund said.

Kaid ascended thirty five feet in a minute span hooking a line near the top wall. He stopped his climb in front of a large hole layered in ice. He stared in the crater's abyss feeling his heart stop for a moment.

"Get a move on chicken shit!" Tormund yelled spurring Kaid into action. He sat on the edge throwing the grapple toward the light unable to latch it. He reeled the line in glancing over his shoulder. "Got it." He grunted falling onto his back screaming at the sight of eight large eyes staring at him.

"Kaid?! You got it what the hells going on?!" Jon and the others approached unable to comprehend the large leg like appendages appearing out of the hole.

The ice spider's tusk like fangs pierced his chest causing Kaid to spit up blood unable to free himself from the webbing. He let out a whimper never imaging to look into the eyes of something so horrific. He felt the spider's venom paralyze his nerves melting his insides. The ranger grabbed a stone igniting a spark and stabbing the arachnid's eyes forcing it to drop him. "Rot in hell ugly fuck." Kaid released the red powder engulfing the hole in fire.

Jon and the others backed away from the wall not believing what they were seeing; charred remains of Kaid and a direwolf sized spider landed on the ground from above. Everyone's blood ran cold noticing movement out of their peripheral. "Those are no rocks." Tormund said moving toward the exit.

"We need to leave right now." Benjen said leading the group the way they came.

"Run!" Jon shouted witnessing spiders descend toward the group pursuing them into the complex cave network.

Benjen halted at the gap commanding the men to use their grappling hooks while Jon stayed behind lending a shoulder to Noah. "Stop Jon." He said opening his shirt revealing several spiders moving inside him, "I'm infested, I can't go on."

A shrieking whistle caught their attention, time was running out. "It's been an honor sir—" Noah spit out blood as it leaked from his eyes and ears.

Jon handed him a torch admiring Noah's bravery, "It's quicker than falling asleep." He held his shoulder piercing Longclaw through his chest as he unstrapped the red powder bag letting the torch scorch his body just as the spiders appeared.

The explosive fire halted the creatures tracks allowing Jon to receive his first glimpse of the arachnids. The largest one remained while the others fled at the sight of fire. Jon stared directly into its eight eyes wondering what the fuck this thing was. It let out a whistle mourning the loss of its burning young popping out of Noah's corpse. The spider charged through the flames receiving a slash through its fangs causing it to crash to the ground. Jon spun Longclaw in his hands bringing the blade down into its head. He grabbed the torch to meet the others to escape just as the fire extinguished.

"We need to go now!"

Jon could hear Benjen's voice and the crawling along the cave's walls behind him. The fire must've went out allowing the flesh eating arachnids to pursue. "Go now! Go!" Jon yelled determined to get the others across. The group secured their lines swinging to the other side unaware the cave ceiling was collapsing due to the collective weight. Jon barley had time to grab a line before shoving Benjen and Tormund to safety while the rest fell into the bottomless pit, heading deeper into the spider's lair.

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**XXX**

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**A/N: Next will pick up where this left off.**


	5. The Cave

**A/N: Retconned a few things in the historical timeline that will become apparent during the chapter. As always enjoy the read. **

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**XXX**

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_Jon was home. He returned to Winterfell after months in exile riding toward the front gates. A looming object caught his peripheral forcing the ranger to halt. Drogon glided above Winterfell's towers reigning fire across the castle grounds sending residents scrambling in a panic._

_The stallion bucked Jon off running from the present danger. He sprinted toward Winterfell glancing over a shoulder noticing Drogon pursuing him. He rolled out of the fire's trail as it burned the castle. Jon slipped through the crowds ignoring the carnage searching for his family._

_"Jon!"_

_He whipped around looking toward the castle grounds finding the voices source standing on the wall's walkway. "Arya!"_

_Jon stopped halfway up the castle wall steps seeing Drogon returning. He leapt off the railing taking cover underneath the stone steps as fire consumed the area. He emerged evading the main castle's burning debris pursuing Arya's voice. "Your not my half brother or my bastard brother, you're my brother."_

_Drogon landed sending reverberating shockwaves around the castle grounds throwing Jon to the wood. He crawled along the walkway toward Arya. "Come find me Jon." She said turning to face him. He used the railing to reach a hand out. Arya smiled fading into ash before he could reach her._

_Jon hurdled the fence bursting through a nearby castle door avoiding a fireball. Ash and smoke filled the room pushing Jon deeper into the burning building as he narrowly side stepped a falling roof._

_"Jon!"_

_"Sansa." Jon ran past the fire kicking a burning door down following her voice up the grand staircase. The stone steps collapsed beneath his feet falling into the inferno below. He glanced in the crypt's rising flames pulling himself up. Drogon's roar shook Winterfell as Jon steadied shoulder ramming the door forcing his way in the room. He caught Sansa burying himself in her shoulder, "its alright, I'm here Sansa. I won't let anything happen to you I promised to protect you."_

_"You still don't know anything Jon," he tightened his hold as she faded from his grip, "no one can protect anyone." Jon stepped away seeing the ash dissipate from his hands._

_"Sansa—" Jon called halting his march due to burning debris crashing into his path._

_"The time is drawing near Jon Snow."_

_"Bran..." Jon ran toward the great hall crossing the indoor walkway avoiding fiery embers. Drogon's head busted through the wood causing him to fall back. "You can't run from destiny Jon, its almost time."_

_Jon climbed steadily to his feet glaring at Drogon clamping voraciously trying to devour him. Jon halted his attempt at a run waiting till the dragon's jaws shut sprinting toward Drogon diving through his teeth rolling to escape. Drogon roared breaking through the wooden structure ascending to the sky reigning fire. Jon took cover entering the hall as the stones structures fell from above threatening to bury him. "Bran! I'm coming to get you!"_

_Bran glanced at Drogon overhead casting a shadow over the clear sky. Drogon's wings created strong winds forcing Jon to stab Longclaw into the hall's beams clawing desperately to reach the king. "Grab on to me Bran." Jon clutched a nearby beam sheathing Longclaw reaching out._

_Bran met Jon's gaze, "don't let it control you."_

_"Bran—" Dragon's flames consumed the hall blasting Jon from the hall._

_He refused to open his eyes. Winterfell was gone. The Stark family were gone. He couldn't protect anything, it'd been hopeless. Drogon landed rattling the ground to its core releasing an earth shattering roar. Jon gripped the soil tightly thinking of his family wishing he could've done more to save them._

_The dragon growled returning Jon's gaze jetting steam out its nostrils. Jon met Daenerys's cold stare, her eyes didn't hold the same unsureness he'd seen previously—she viewed him as an enemy. His head hung as the last pillar collapsed leaving his childhood home a pile of ash._

_The King in the North drew Longclaw lamenting the fallen Starks. Drogon roared opening its jaws revealing a fireball. Jon reared his sword aiming a strike at Drogon as the flames scorched the earth._

The smell of smoke and burning embers stirred Jon awake. Shouting and yelling from the two groups forced him to stand unable to stop the disorientation for a moment.

"Light the rest of the torches!"

"Collect every Dragonglass weapon you got."

Jon heaved staring up from where they'd fallen. Webs covering the walls above must've broke their falls momentum. The events happened in a blur. He lost two rangers to monsters his mind couldn't comprehend were real. Dragons, White Walkers, and Children of the Forest were folklore shrouded in mystery. Ice spiders were completely hidden from the world's history, he refused to believe what he saw.

"You're up." Eli handed Jon a torch, "this is madness. Fuckin giant ice spiders? I'm convincing myself I'm asleep some place in a nightmare."

"I don't believe it either. Have you seen any of them while I was out?"

Eli shook his head continuing to check the surroundings. "Find a way up?" Jon asked watching Solomon disengage the rope from his climbing harness landing on the ground.

"No the exit is sealed, the whole fucking ceiling came down."

Jon raised his torch calling for everyone to circle up. "There isn't a way out where we came. This is uncharted cave territory and we're dealing with extreme hostiles. I ask you hand over your powder to one person to conserve it, we'll need it to survive."

"I'll take em." Solomon collected their bags tying them around his sword belt.

"What's your best guess where we are?" A Hornfoot asked.

"It doesn't matter where we are. We have to be prepared for anything here on out." Solomon said lighting a torch.

"You're right. Well we're not at the entrance. This doesn't seem like a main hunting ground for any game..."

"It's a graveyard." Jon said. He guided the group ahead illuminating the immense cavern. Large skeletons buried in the dirt littered the area forcing them to climb through the bone structures.

"What do you think they killed?"

"Each other probably, spiders are solitary creatures, they ain't ants."

"Better them than us."

Jon stopped holding a hand up silencing the Hornfoot's talk, "there's something ahead." He shined the torch through the darkness reflecting eight gleaming eyes in the near distance. Jon stepped to the half crushed spider unsuccessfully trying to move.

Eli puked at the smell of the rot creature unable to process what he seen. "What the hell are you doing?" Solomon asked unsure of what his commander was trying to accomplish waving his hand and torch simultaneously and separately in front of the spider. He threw a stone drawing the spider's attention walking the opposite direction failing to draw its eyes.

"They're blind," Jon backed toward the group walking them away, "it can only see my hand near the flames. They track and hunt sounds over anything seen. Don't lose the torches, fire is your best bet at staying alive—only talk when necessary."

"What do we with this ugly fucker?"

"Save your arrows, we need to get movin, there's no tellin what's ahead."

There wasn't any other way across. Jon halted the group coming to the edge of a trench noticing movement on the walls above. "Stay close, move slowly." Jon said to the shaking Hornfoot backing against the wall until his feet stuck. He held the torch tightly side stepping his way through the darkness.

The others followed mimicking the first ranger's movements traversing across the deep trench. Eli tugged at his collar as the rocky surface cracked threatening to send them falling to their deaths. Jon grasped a slipping Hornfoot's collar preventing him from plummeting. Boulders descended on the group forcing them to speed up their pace crossing the collapsing ice pit.

Jon reached the other side pulling his comrades to safety. The group watched the ledge they stood on crumble into the bottomless pit below. They continued on entering a tunnel illuminated by crystals leaving the trench behind.

"Look at this place..." Eli examined the cerulean crystals staring at the cave's wonders, "I wouldn't mind staying in a place like this. If spiders fear light we can wait here for help."

Solomon snorted, "no one knows we're in this place. By chance they do nobody is making it here."

"Keep moving. Stay on the path, don't stray." Jon said. The Hornfoots trailed the rangers examining the dirt and webbing covering large holes along the tunnel wall. A Hornfoot touched the land flap brushing against the iced webbing jumping back.

"What're you so jumpy about friend?" His comrade asked clasping a shoulder "ain't like anything is gonna come outta there—" His smile faded noticing his comrade's features contort.

Jon and the others turned at a screaming Hornfoot grasping the wall's edge being pulled in the webbed burrow. A funnel web spider latched its fangs latched onto his foot tripping him. He quickly grabbed a nearby obsidian spear stabbing its head repeatedly. Jon slid in the dirt grasping his arm tightly propping against the wall for leverage combating the spider's strength.

"Don't let go, don't let go." The Hornfoot begged as others pulled trying to free him from the iron clad grip, "fuck my leg is fuckin tearing off!"

"Stick a torch in!" Jon commanded forcing a Hornfoot into action. The flames struck one of the spider's eyes forcing it further into the burrow. The trapped man's leg bended at the hole's entrance snapping at the knee as he sunk deeper in the hole. The group stepped away seeing more trapdoors emerge from their burrows.

"Get out of here!"

Jon pulled harder despite his grip coming loose, "don't let go." He said holding the Hornfoot's arm, "you won't, I won't."

"Save yourself your grace." In one motion the screaming Hornfoot disappeared beyond the trapdoor. The momentum bounced Jon's head off the ground nearly knocking him cold.

He shook his head ignoring the blood trickling over an eye. "Hell no." He pulled the flap prying the trapdoor open.

"We need to go Jon!" Eli yelled leading the group away. The first ranger unsheathed Longclaw piercing the trapdoor spider bursting from its burrow evading another one's lunge driving the blade through its eye.

The rangers and Hornfoots fought their way through the cave evading the waking ice spiders. The alpha trapdoor charged the group's flank forcing them to attack it at once. Their assault proved useless in comparison to the spider's crushing limbs able to break obsidian weapons. The large spider lunged toward them as Longclaw's Valyrian blade drove through its abdomen. Jon walked across the back stabbing its head executing the monster. "I told you to keep moving."

"Get out Hornfoots keep runnin." Eli and the rangers halted their run drawing their swords.

"Hand me two bags." Jon said quickly catching the powder supply. "We'll lure em' in then blow it to hell."

"Then we have to be ready to run like hell." Solomon replied. Red flames lit the cavern ablaze as Eli and Solomon ignited their blades in fire as spiders crawled from every angle. The rangers stabbed into the horde making the spiders cautious from the fires devastation. Longclaw's blade sparked a blue flame burning brighter and hotter than its red counterparts slicing through spiders at an exponential rate.

The trapdoors came from every direction increasing in numbers. The rangers threw their bags forward tossing a torch after it incinerating the spider horde sending an explosion after the rangers. Solomon scooped Eli and Jon up dashing through the crumbling tunnel diving to freedom as the exit collapsed.

The Hornfoots helped the rangers stand raising their torches spreading through the chambered cavern. "What the hell is that?" One of them pointed to the far wall.

Jon strode toward the illuminated symbols

affiliated with the white walkers. "What does this mean?" Solomon asked.

"Whatever we found outside didn't matter. The answers we're looking for are here." Jon walked along the symbols reaching a cave. "I'm following up on this."

"You're just gonna leave us stranded in this shit?!" Inquired a Hornfoot.

"You're welcome to come along."

"You fucking pulling our leg?" Another one interjected, "you guys are going to leave us to follow some cave paintings."

"We're rangers." Jon said surprising the Hornfoot clan, "our duty is protecting the realms of men from forces they will never understand. If I don't follow up on this lead and the walkers roam the earth again, the world will be at risk because I didn't do my duty."

"The walkers are gone."

"The same was said about these spiders, now we know the stories weren't complete horse shit." Solomon added.

"What makes you think the walkers are returning?" A Hornfoot questioned.

"Hours before you all asked to return to the Frostfangs I found these symbols in a field near Milkwater's south shore." The Hornfoots swore in northern tongue at the first ranger's declaration.

"Now do you understand? We're here for a greater purpose then our survival, worlds fate may depend on the mission." Eli said.

"That's respectable." A Hornfoot spoke. "We already lost one of ours and have to protect our lives first. We wish you luck on your mission rangers."

Jon nodded relieving his team of their makeshift Dragonglass weapons handing them to the clan. "Find an exit. We'll follow when we're done."

The rangers left the Hornfoots walking the opposite direction following the symbols carved into the stone. The trio stopped at the entrance to the tunnel. "Are you sure about this?" Solomon asked staring into the darkness.

"No." Jon marched on raising his torch, "there isn't any other choice."

They raised their torches higher seeing the cave ceiling covered in icy webs filled to the brim with spiders. The trio trudged through the coarse dirt halting when a spider repelled from the ceiling staring at Jon's torch; He gripped Longclaw's hilt when the spider refused to budge staring at the rangers. A hatchet clanged in the distance alerting the spider as it repelled up the webbing investigating the noise with its herd.

Jon released an exhale moving stealthily past the spiders making it to a distant cave at tunnel's end. "This is it." The first ranger examined the symbols closely, "it's all here, the walker's history, the Horn of Winter."

"Guys have a look at this." Eli waved his comrades over.

"It's the wall, just after its completion eight thousand years ago." Jon squinted at the cave illustrations getting a closer viewing, "Its a direwolf sigil, House Stark...Can you read this?"

Eli turned towards Jon, "says the thirteen lord commander of the Night's Watch was a Stark."

Jon furrowed his brows, "We were always told he was a Bolton, a Magnar of Skagos, an Umber, even a Woodfoot. There aren't any songs written about the Night's Watch lord commander."

"There isn't any doubt about it. Says here he was a Stark. A man who lay with the wicked slaying his enemies using his sworn brothers as his personal army."

"He was Brandon the Breaker's brother. What else does it say?" He said watching Eli shine the torch further down.

"Might want to see this with your own eyes Jon." Solomon said.

Jon's eyes widened, "the hell is this?" A dragon was carved above a humanoid figure surrounded in ice. Bodies were drawn in place of dragons representing the altered Targaryen sigil.

"This can't be right." Eli stepped up to the inscriptions reading the passage himself, "this is bullshit. All of this!" Eli shook his head sighing, "Your ancestor fucked the first white walker, a corpse descended from the Andals, a Targaryen. The Long Night, the walkers, its due to some fucked up love affair. They raised walker children sacrificing people until they were defeated by Bran the Breaker and the King beyond the Wall Joramun's alliance. The Night King leading the walkers you faced was their offspring. A man with prepossessing walker blood sharing Stark and Targaryen lines as well was captured by the children and created after the war to take their land back from man—He wasn't the first walker."

Jon stopped listening placing a hand on the nearby wall steadying himself upright. The source of the world's greatest threat started with the same bloodlines flowing through his veins. It only further proved he wasn't special; the Night King showed interest in him because of their shared lineage. He wasn't seen as a combative equal. His Stark ancestor saw him nothing more than a gnat and it pissed him off to no end. The White Walker and Stark lines were intrinsically linked, it made sense why Bran the King of Winter destroyed every record of Brandon's history—The knowledge had the power to tarnish the Stark name in Westeros.

He moved to the other side of the cave studying the horn's illustrations. Joramun, a giant, and a forest child circled together placing their blood in the horn blasting it three times crashing the wall down. Giants would emerge from the wall reawakening to battle at world's end. Loud rustling in the tunnel echoed spurring the rangers to turn toward the noises. "We can't take them on without the Hornfoots, we'll be overwhelmed."

"I'll lead them bastards away, keep the exit open for me." Eli caught an extra bag from Solomon.

Jon nodded, "We'll wait for you."

Eli branched from the group shouting at the top of his lungs igniting his blade in flames. The horde followed the explosive fire set in the dirt hurling flaming rocks in their herd.

Jon held Longclaw above him cleaving the jumping spider in half. Solomon's sledge smashed another's head in swinging once more cracking a wolf spider's abdomen. Jon and Solomon hacked through spiders evading venomous fangs. They reached the cave's mouth still being pursued by the herd's stragglers. Their bags emptied surrounding the entryway in a red line.

Eli ran climbing up a rocky ledge letting the horde pass jumping over the boulders blocking his path. The spiders pursued unable to catch the crafty runner as he slid under a narrow passage getting back onto the main path toward the exit. He threw powder on his sword reigniting its flames incinerating arachnids. A spider with a red chelicerate swayed eyeing the prey from its perched web through its top four eyes dwarfing the bottom four.

Eli ran to his squadmates watching them combat the few remaining stragglers. The red mouthed spider landed in front of him stopping his movement. He didn't hesitate trying to slice it like the others slashing partway through a leg. The spider backed off for a moment recognizing the present danger. The first two pairs of legs lifted high revealing conspicuous black and light banded pattern on the leg underside while it swayed from side to side with hind legs in a cocked position.

Jon and Solomon finished off the last of the nomadic spiders preparing to seal the exit. "What kind of spider is that? Haven't seen that one, looks different from the others."

Eli backed off as the spider stood on its bottom four legs sizing up the ranger. The spider evaded wild swings using the walls to maneuver tiring him out. It stopped striking in one motion burying its fangs in the ranger's shoulder. Eli swung missing the retreating target. He shivered as his blood ran cold and his breaths became shallow. The bite seared like he'd stabbed himself with his fire sword. His heart rate soared as he ran past the spider unwilling to fight it. His legs gave out leaving him paralyzed as he started coughing for air slowly suffocating. Eli felt his organs swish around like liquid in a basin; the left side of his face swelled causing an eye to shut.

"Something's wrong. I'm going in, light the powder when the horde arrives—"

"GO! Get outta here..! Finish..." Eli crawled toward his comrades coughing up blood, "Finish the mission!" He shouted using the last of his strength turning over. The horde climbed the walls heading for the rangers as the wandering spider towered over him piercing his chest slurping the liquified organs through puncture wounds. Spiders surrounded Eli pulling apart his limbs ripping his head off going into a bloodlust frenzy.

Jon and Solomon dove as the cave mouth collapsed trapping the spider horde in the flames and ruble. "Lets find the Hornfoots and get the fuck outta this hellhole."

The duo ran toward the last direction they saw the Hornfoot clan go. Jon placed a hand on the sealed entrance. The web differed from any he'd seen previously. "This wasn't here before, the Hornfoots went this way."

"You sure? They could've gone this way?" Solomon approached the last remaining passageway.

"They didn't. Something came through here, its leading us on." The darkness in the caves held eeriness. Torches flickered threatening to go out succumbing to the murkiness exuding out every crevice. It held a foul rot stench dulling the senses leaving the most hardened warriors sick and disoriented. Whoever journeyed the cave's beforehand felt the hopelessness weigh them down untimely crumbling to the feeling never finding light again.

"Don't have much powder left. Collapsing the previous tunnel took more than I had anticipated." Solomon poured the supply in one knapsack securing it to his belt.

"I'm low too. Is there enough to collapse another tunnel?"

Solomon shook his head, "not even close." The remaining rangers crouched as the passage closed in leaving a small opening covered in webs. "Another trapdoor?"

Jon stared at the opening furrowing his brows, "there's no turning back." He sliced the webbing entering the hole noticing a light at the end of the tunnel. A still silence fell over the pair as they neared the other side.

Jon slashed the webbing throwing his torch below jumping to the crunching ground. The rangers stared at the bone carcasses raising their torches staggering at the body count piled. "You were wrong about earlier, this is the graveyard."

"Aye it is." The duo marched through the endless boneyard mounds finding a large webbed egg sac pressed tightly against the far wall. Hooves crackling bones into dust caught their attention. They shined their torches to a nearby cave encased in ice. "Stop," Jon held an arm out halting Solomon, "finding an exit is the priority."

"That cave could be a way out!"

"It's not." Jon glared at eight cannon ball sized eyes cutting through the darkness. Gargantuan limbs appeared clinging on the cave edges.

"By the old gods—"

The mother spider emerged from the web burrow forcing the duo back on their heels holding a breath. Jon's grip on Longclaw tightened recalling early childhood days in Winterfell. Being an outcast as a bastard forced him to make unusual friends who were cast out like him. A farm boy had an obsession with spiders studying every facet. He only showed interest witnessing the arachnids hunt. He never forgot their three movement pattern; The emergence, the size up, then the fatal strike.

Jon kept his eyes trained on the spider awaiting the second movement. "Don't move, we hit her with everything when she changes position."

Solomon shook his head, "we can't afford to wait. I can make it to higher ground then there's a chance to burn this fucker." Solomon sprinted as the queen chased darting from her burrow pursuing the fleeing ranger. Jon whistled throwing a skull at it unable to draw her attention.

The spider stood on it's back legs trying to devour the demolition expert. Solomon's grip slipped as the bone structure crashed to the ground. He gasped emerging from the bones heading for another mound. It pounced quickly rising overtop rearing its fangs to strike.

The mother spider winced overwhelmed by a heated glow breaking the darkness. Blue flames illuminated the cave hovering over the egg sac drawing the queen's undivided attention. It pinned Solomon's leg causing him to writhe in agony. "You know what this is don't you?" Jon placed the flaming blade closer to the webbed sac causing the queen spider to remove her weight off Solomon.

Jon glanced at two emerging spiders from separate burrows atop the opposite walls. He reared his sword intending to strike stopping abruptly noticing the queen call off her the ambush forcing her underlings into their holes. "Solomon can you move?" He called keeping his gaze on the spider queen.

"My leg's busted, its no good..."

"Try to make it over here."

Solomon steadied his breathing picking up the bow nearby, "they're not gonna let us go Jon. You know as well as I do we have to burn every one of these fuckers."

"Just try and make it over alright?" Jon froze noticing the bow aimed for him. The arrow shot lodging above him.

Solomon chuckled reloading, "just my luck you're not that tall, blow them to hell...Its been an honor." He said nocking the arrow pulling the bow string tightly aiming at the queen spider. "Look at me you ugly bitch."

Jon grabbed the arrow off the wall holding the powder knapsack up for the queen to see. She let out an angered hiss as the ranger dangled the bag over the egg sac.

The sac's webs opened, hundreds of small spiders prepared for their first feast. Jon glanced at the queen tossing the flaming bag into the spider sac incinerating the young. "Go now!" Solomon yelled firing an obsidian arrow into one of the queen's eyes. He said a prayer as her clawed foot descended smashing his skull apart.

The mother spider charged at Jon rising on its legs to show its fangs. He kept her at bay with the flaming Longclaw slashing wherever he could. The spider young leapt on her digging their underdeveloped fangs in her exoskeleton. The mother devoured her young as wolf spiders rushed their queen.

Jon fled recognizing the Hunstman spider descend on the queen spider challenging her position. He cut through an opening crouching to get to the other side. The lone ranger sprinted through the darkness letting his sword's blue flames guide him down the passage to another immense cavern. He let out a heavy sigh as light peered from the gaping holes in the ceiling—He was nearing the exit.

"Jon!"

"Over here ranger!"

"He made it!"

The Hornfoots waved and whistled from the cavern's center. "You look like hell." One of them spoke as Jon approached holding a steaming Longclaw wiping dirt off his face.

"I don't doubt it." He replied.

"Where are the others? Do we need to go in for an extraction?"

Jon shook his head, "we walked into a death trap. The only reason I'm standing here is because of my comrades."

The clan shifted on their feet exchanging glances, "we're sorry for your losses-"

"Don't be, they died knowing it was for a higher purpose than serving themselves." Jon smiled warmly surprising the clan, "I'm proud they lived for each other, the brotherhood, how Watchmen should." The group stayed silent for a few moments respecting those they'd lost till this point.

"We found an exit on the other side of the cavern," the Hornfoot said leading his clan pointing to the top corner near the ceiling, "it's there. We just need to repel up and we'll be home free."

"I have spare ropes and hooks for those who need it. I'll remain the spotter while you guys ascend." Jon appreciated the humility the clan showed in their thanks addressing him as 'king' and 'your grace.' The group halted noticing the light fading from the cavern. Spiders crawled out the crevices forcing them to circle up. They held their ground chopping, slashing and hammering at the ice spiders unable to avoid being washed further from the exit.

A Hornfoot pursued his comrade as they sought higher ground to give the others cover fire. He threw his bow aside seeing his mate in a spider's jaws. The spider and his comrade were pulled into the nearby sludge pool by a large tentacle.

He ran knee deep into the black sludge clutching the motionless body. Pale worm like leeches emerged from the tentacles sticking their razor sharp teeth into the mortally wounded man. He growled bare knuckle striking the leeches pushing them back drawing his obsidian sword hacking the leeche's heads from their hardened bodies.

The Hornfoot felt his foot numb as a leach swallowed his ankle inching its way up. He unsuccessfully chopped its head grunting as a leech ambushed burying it's mouth over his face muffling his screams. More leeches sprung out of the murky depths devouring the Hornfoot's bodies.

"Light is running out, fuckers are blocking the ceiling."

"Where is the goddamn arrow support?!"

Jon tossed the bag aside placing the last of the powder on Longclaw pulling out a whetstone as the four remaining warriors cut into the spider horde unable to push forward.

"Fuck the light's almost gone! If it goes out we're fucked!"

"Do something your grace!" The spiders closed in overwhelming their prey as the light became consumed by the darkness.

Longclaw erupted in a great flurry of blue flames lighting the darkness. The spiders halted blinded by the magnificent fire. The survivors fought their way through the darkness staying close to their king's flames slaughtering the stunned spiders. The horde cowered from the blue fire's devastating power incinerating half a dozen spiders in a swing.

Light emerged from the ceiling as spiders crashed to the ground smashing their allies. The group glanced up at Tormund swinging from a repelling line firing arrows at the ceiling before aiming his shooting to the horde. Jon whipped around seeing an ambushing spider turn to ice shattering into pieces. Benjen waved from the exit above shooting more ice arrows into the dwindling spider herd. Jon incinerated a hissing spider cleaving it in half with one mighty swing. The five remaining warriors cheered as the last arachnid burst into ice particles.

"Don't start yanking each other's cocks yet. Hurry the fuck up!" Tormund shouted landing beside Benjen. The Hornfoots watched the blue flame evaporate from Longclaw unable to take their eyes off their king.

"Let's get you home Hornfoots." Jon said offering a smile as they gave a victory shout. The men laughed clasping one another's shoulders heading for the exit.

A thunderous boom behind them caused the group to halt their movement turning toward the crash sight. The spider queen dropped the half melted Huntsman from its fangs staring at Jon. No one spoke seeing the massive spider break through the cave walls in pursuit of them showing off battle wounds.

"Run." Jon said sending the Hornfoots toward the exit. The queen burst through boulder formations in her path charging them across the cavern.

"That's one big fucker."

"I'll provide cover. You better get down there to make sure they get here." Benjen said firing off icicles at the queen.

Jon drove a heated Longclaw upward dismembering one of her pedipalps. She let out a hiss lunging at Jon halting when the Hornfoots attacked chucking obsidian spears and firing arrows. One of the men stepped too close being swept into the air and swiftly bitten in half.

The survivors fled toward the wall running from the spider's angered wrath. Jon reached the wall first prepping his gear starting to ascend. He stopped noticing the Hornfoots scrambling through terrain unable to shake the queen's pursuit. He landed on the ground Longclaw in hand rejoining the fray.

A Hornfoot struggled unable to cut the ice webbing. The web tightened burning into his skin drawing blood. His comrade slid on a knee coming to his aid attempting to cut him free. The blade broke unable to penetrate the webs defensive mechanism. "Stand back." Jon slashed the webbing shattering it to pieces.

"Head to the exit." Jon watched the spider attack the Hornfoot's hiding crevice trying to dig into the wall.

"We'll be devoured in seconds."

"I'll lead her away. Its me she wants."

The hiding Hornfoot slunk to the end of the crevice keeping a distance from the approaching fangs. He emerged when the queen disappeared suddenly pursuing the lone ranger's trail. Jon halted facing his foe creeping its way his position staring directly at him.

Since the arrival he ran to escape this hell hole unable to save lives in the process. This wasn't a time to know fear, it was a time to conquer it. The enemy represented a physical manifestation of his fear of entrapment. He only wanted to be free from it all; prophecies, politics, war. These were inescapable, pursuing him until he faced them head on instead of running.

Jon turned dashing into the sludge pool pushing deeper into the murky bank. The spider queen didn't move for a moment before charging into the sludge forcing Jon deeper. Leeches splashed through the surface lunging past Jon. He sliced a few heads off climbing out of the tar pit. The leeches assaulted the queen hooking their teeth in her dragging her beneath the pool surface.

Jon staggered backwards falling onto a knee holding his ribs. He watched leeches emerge diving into the bubbling sludge. He didn't care what those creatures were. Their presence explained the spiders' controlled population, the leeches were a perfectly evolved species to prey on the ice spiders. The Hornfoots grabbed Jon helping him to his feet heading for the exit.

The group climbed for Tormund's position willing to meet him halfway. "Your a crazy bastard Snow!" He yelled watching them ascend higher. The rippling tar spurted out the pit catching the spotter's eye. "Movement below!"

The climbers paused staring at the sludge pool. Tar exploded from the surface nearly reaching them. Jon's grip tightened on the ropes seeing the spider queen emerge bloodied continuing its relentless pursuit. "Keep climbing, don't stop!"

"Hurry the fuck up!" Tormund shouted shooting his remaining arrows past the rangers giving them cover.

Jon and the Hornfoots stepped off the ice wall climbing up a tall boulder formation intending to reach the extraction point. Jon slipped as a Hornfoot clutched his cloak unable to hold on as he was swiftly tossed off the wall. An icicle hit her in the abdomen giving the ranger a window to escape in pursuit of his comrades.

The queen recovered rearing her fangs reaching mid summit. Jon's eyes widened, "find cover!" He yelled diving between a crevice in the formation. The Hornfoots unloaded their arrows in the spider unable to faze her. Venom shot out between its fangs searing into their flesh. Jon climbed past the melting bodies as the smoking rocks cracked.

"Hurry up Snow!" Jon evaded the spider's lunge avoiding its fangs raising Longclaw above his head cleaving a leg off climbing to Tormund. "Grab on little crow!" Jon leapt from the unstable boulders as the formation collapsed avalanching toward the ground below sweeping the spider along.

Benjen yanked the rope over his shoulder pulling them to safety. "You're a - fat shit - Snow." Tormund heaved resting his head on the ground.

"You're - heavier - than me." Jon coughed turning over grabbing at the soreness wracking his abdomen.

"I'm glad you made it out Jon. Though its unfortunate I can't say the same for the others."

Tormund stood staggering at the sight of silky ice attached to the cavern ceiling meters away. "What the fuck? Don't tell me." The trio peered over the edge seeing the queen spider burst free beneath the avalanche's rubble ascending the web.

"How far is the exit?" Jon asked.

"Not far." Benjen replied.

"Good, I count on you to blow the bridge using your powder."

Tormund palmed his forehead, "I don't like where this is headed."

"Count on us. I'll leave my rope behind for you follow." Benjen summoned an icicle handing it to Jon, "make it count." He said running off with Tormund.

Jon grabbed the bow buried in dirt aiming at the spider crawling on the cavern's top preparing to pounce. He didn't doubt she could make the jump. His attempts to slay her had been futile, he only managed to piss her off. He saw her hydraulic legs bend giving away her intention. The icicle shot lodging in one of her top eyes as she jumped for him.

The spider queen crashed skidding in the dirt dazed by the unexpected attack. Jon hacked another leg off immobilizing her further aiming a second strike for the queen's head. Jon turned rolling out of the way of her fang's lunge as they missed clamping into the ground. Jon backed off watching the mother dispense slimy liquid from her mouth onto her limbs cauterizing the bloody wounds.

"Stand up. Let's end this." Jon waited for the massive arachnid to rise staring into its five eyes. In a flash the spider pursued the fleeing ranger breaking though the cave's infrastructure.

Benjen and Tormund heard Jon's voice yelling for them to ignite the bags. They waited until seeing Jon emerge from the cave tossing their torches aside dashing across the bridge. Jon cut the bridge's ropes as a fiery explosion engulfed the mountain. The mother spider burst into flames leaping off the mountain rearing its fangs at the ranger. Jon held the bridge planks splitting the queen's head in two as one of her fangs pierced the wood boards narrowly missing him. Jon glanced at the spider carcass descending in the canyon's depths disappearing into the fog.

The bridge swung toward the opposite mountainside at high speeds threatening to throw them off. "Brace for impact!" Benjen shouted. Jon held tighter as the bridge picked up more velocity; the last image he saw was the rocky mountainside before everything faded to black.

_He was back in Winterfell beneath the godswood seeing the Stark family after months of separation. "I'm glad you're back Jon." Arya offered a smile in his direction._

_"Welcome home." Sansa spoke meeting his eyes._

_"The time is near Jon Snow." Bran said staring directly through him_.

Jon grunted in pain unable to fully move his right shoulder. He peaked an eye open seeing Longclaw hanging in his grip as he hung hundreds of feet above the canyon. He sheathed Longclaw grunting again.

"Jon! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Start climbing Snow! The bridge may not hold!"

Jon snatched the spider queen's fang off the board placing it in his cloak climbing up the bridge. Benjen and Tormund helped him up when he reached the summit as he held his shoulder. "You did well Jon. That sure was something." Benjen said folding his arms.

The lone ranger narrowed his eyes, "I managed to find out how the horn works. It needs blood from a man, a giant, and a forest child."

Benjen placed a hand under his chin, "I see. Then you saw the prophecy, when the horn sounds it will supposedly bring down the wall."

"Aye its the same horn Mance said he possessed when we were trying to cross the wall. Though there were children and giants back then, now they're gone." Tormund added.

"Perhaps not." Benjen whistled calling his loyal companion. The bear nuzzled him as the trio hopped on riding into the vacant ice fortress. "Looks like the blast radius caused an avalanche here as well." He said halting the bear's tracks staring at the snow piled reaching a high plateau. "My journey isn't over yet. There may be giants out in the unknown expanse of the north."

"Even if you find em they'd gut you based on your appearance." Tormund said.

"That's the least of my worries. It's no guarantee there's anything out there in the expanse. There's only rumors to go off of but it's our only option."

Jon scowled, "I can't let you go out there alone uncle Benjen. I'll travel with you-"

"No Jon, your mission is over. You have no way to get your horse or supplies up here without any lifts." Benjen frowned slightly, "the Lands of Always Winter doesn't have any food source. I don't require anything to nourish myself, in your condition you wouldn't make it more than a few days."

Jon bowed his head unwilling to leave his uncle, "you don't have to go uncle Benjen. You can return to Winterfell to see everyone again."

Benjen smiled recognizing Lyanna's traits in Jon, "I will someday. However the same magic that created me resides in the wall and won't allow me passage until its destruction."

"I will see you again you beautiful beast." Tormund said scratching the bear's furry chin "Stark, it was an honor. Don't get yourself killed out there."

"Same to you my friend." Benjen shook the lieutenant's hand giving mutual respect.

Tormund clasped Jon's shoulder, "I'll be waiting at the cliff side." He said giving the family members privacy.

"You really don't want me to go with you?"

"I would be honored. However you're needed elsewhere, I know Westeros Jon. The six kingdoms are on disarray; your the hero they'll turn to in their time of need."

Jon shook his head, "I'm not a hero. I'm just a ranger guarding the realms of men."

Benjen smiled warmly, "I'm sure others would disagree." The former first ranger glanced at sky noticing the sun emerge from the clouds, "I can handle things from here Jon, I'll report in the near future."

"Uncle Benjen." Jon called halting the bear's leave. "Brandon the breaker's brother was thirteenth lord commander of the Night's Watch. He fell in love with the corpse queen giving her human offspring. One of them was the Night King. He was not the first walker in existence."

Benjen didn't speak contemplating what to say next. "That explains it then." He said staring at his icy hand, "Why the walker's magic took so long to effect me. It makes sense the children chose me to roam the north as a gravewalker. Walkers and Starks are connected by a common ancestor."

"The corpse queen was a Targaryen."

Benjen's eyes widened putting his earlier shock to shame. He creased his brows in deep thought, "try not worry about that Jon. You've done your duty, now it's time to do mine. You gave me answers I had questions to. The next time we meet again I promise I'll be the one bringing answers to your questions." He reached a hand out shaking his nephews. "Go see your family Jon, protect them at all costs."

Jon brought himself to smile thinking of them, "I will uncle."

Benjen nodded leading his companion "Till next time." The undead bear leapt up the snowy mountain vanishing into the mist.

Jon and Tormund were silent descending the mountain reaching the ground as the sun shed light on the vast land extenuating the serene northern landscape. "Snow," Tormund called as the ranger strapped the deceased ranger's belongings to his horse, "I ain't sayin thank you for earlier."

"What do you mean?" Jon said finishing his horse's gearing ready for the journey ahead.

"You saved me. I understand your reason for saving your uncle, you're family. Don't do that again." Tormund met Jon's gaze, "I could've helped save lives or at least died trying. Isn't that what it's about? Dying for one another in the heat of the battle."

Jon inaudibly sighed understanding where Tormund was coming from; the veteran warrior relished opportunities for combat, though even he doubted the lieutenant wanted any part of the hell they went through in the caves. "I understand. I'll try not to get in your way."

Tormund noted Jon's expression grunting at the harshness of his words. He was just following his protective instincts, "go see your family Jon. I'm sure they're missin ya already."

"I'm heading to the Hornfoot settlement in the Frostfangs. I don't know when I'll be going home."

Tormund nodded, "I don't know how you do it Snow. Good luck reconstructing the bridges and forts along the wall. I'll be going to Hardhome; the fishing and pelt business is booming, have to sail south to establish more trade."

Jon grinned extending a hand, "until next time."

"Until Winterfell." Tormund grinned widely returning the handshake riding off leaving the ranger alone. Jon watched him and the horses disappear in the distance as he fell against his horse clutching a shoulder.

Jon kept silent about his intentions. He never expected to survive the fall down the caves. Saving Benjen and Tormund was a reactionary decision but was also necessary for the greater good. Benjen would have the horn and Tormund would lead the Wildlings. The world wouldn't miss him. He held hope that his family still cared awaiting his return to Winterfell.

"I'll be home soon, I promise." Jon raced south across the wasteland lamenting the losses suffered. It wouldn't be in vein; he could feel the walkers imminent return in every fiber. He vowed to return to journey into the winter land expanse and end the menace before they marched south. His horse sped up climbing over a hill running for the Frostfangs—His journey was just beginning.

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**XXX**

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**A/N: Next- Jon returns home to find things are not as well as they seem.**


	6. Homeland

**A/N: The Journey continues, as always enjoy the reading.**

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**XXX**

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Watchmen and Hornfoot workers hauled lumber structures off the furnished bridge dismantling sturdy construction scaffolds secured across the Gorge. Lines repelled bringing sediment and adhesive supplies assisting builders climbing over the ledge. Workers gathered admiring the newly refurbished bridge for travel. The rangers counted themselves fortunate supplies were stashed in the armory stretching miles underground. The disarrayed forts across the wall lacked materials to build foundations, Westwatch was an anomaly; the Watch's insufficient funds for buying or bartering in exchange for construction materials from southern third parties, independent contractors, and trade markets was a one way road.

Over the construction's course Hornfoots traded lumber and pelts for steel and ale delivering the wood from Frostfangs. On one of the first nights of the second week rangers requested wildling women causing bloody brawls throughout camp carrying over into the workdays prompting a Watchmen officer to remark witnessing the near death incidents walking along the half finished bridge, "we stopped killing each other, at our core we're supposed to try killing one another. One cannot exist in the absence of the other, chaos, peace—eternal enemies."

Jon fit the final stone slab in a refurbished column pulling on his ropes ascending to the bridge's rail taking the Lord Steward and First Builders hands. "You sure outdid yourself Halder, the Bridge of Skulls hasn't been reinforced in half a century." He said unstrapping the harness tossing it aside.

The first builder smirked throwing the knapsack full of rope over a shoulder, "the workers are gathered here cause of you providing the necessary workforce, I just drew the blueprint. It wasn't pretty at times but we needed the man power."

"The homegrown recruits out the North bolstered our numbers greatly. We were able to complete Westwatch and oversee the bridge's refortification in weeks." Hobb said adjusting his specially crafted three fingered glove.

"I've seen everything as a quarryman's son when it comes to building, restoring a historical bridge such as this has been unprecedented for decades." The tall and muscular Halder stated crossing his arms.

"Westwatch's exterior is redeveloped, the interior needs work its in shambles." Jon said. The first ranger thought Halder was strong enough to hold his own but easy to anticipate while Hobbs was the weaker of the two but could put up a fight having to scrape his way up from being a lowly cook to lead Steward. All three of them started in vastly different places then they were currently in.

"The men need to be accommodated with suitable living arrangements to man the fort or they wouldn't last a single season." Halder replied leaning against the stone rail, "good work got done we should take a few days to ourselves, especially you Jon."

"He's right, you look like you haven't slept in weeks. You've worked hard getting your hands dirty as much as anyone—you earned it." Hobbs offered scratching his balding scalp.

"I'll be alright there's vacant castles we have to reinforce to keep on schedule." He replied crossing his arms.

A roar of cheers caught their attention toward the bridge's center. "Appears the last stone was placed, now we can get the hell out of here." Hobb said tying a paper to a raven's talon sending it flying east.

"Rangers," Xander greeted beside his clan. "Seems everything's done. We will ride for the Frostfangs within the day."

"Might wanna delay that order chief." Halder said clasping the younger man's shoulder, "hear that Hornfoots? You're invited to the Watch's banquet, you all earned it." The Hornfoots and Watchmen traversed across the bridge heading to nearby Westwatch on mounted horses.

The workers left to Westwatch leaving the new bridge desolate in the middle of the Gorge, only one person remained behind. Jon didn't know how long he stood on the in same spot on the bridge facing north waiting for Benjen to appear. His uncle left him behind again charging the unknown. What would he find in the expanse of the Lands of Always Winter? Would he find irrefutable proof of the others return or return empty handed? His white stallion bumped him out his musings as the sun descended past the Gorge's low horizon stirring him to finally return to Westwatch.

On the outside Westwatch appeared abandoned displaying a heavy weathered infrastructure surviving centuries against wildling invasions. Arrows and spears lodged in the curtain walls made repair to certain parts impossible. Reconstructed towers overlooked the Bridge of Skulls offering a glimpse of incoming enemies miles away. Upon entering the courtyard it became apparent why Westwatch stood as an integral role in maintaining the order beyond the wall when properly manned.

The watchmen and wildlings through their work were able to reinforce: crenellations across the top of the shield walls, rotted walkways were replaced with new lumber ensuring secure footing in hazard zones, stone hoardings were set along the wall ready to ambush invaders from above using arrows or hot tar. Most work time was constrained to the bridge and certain sections of the fort. They were still in need of work on the great halls, gate houses, baileys, workshops, stables and living quarters to stay long term.

Halder overlooked the rowdiness below as tension rose between the two parties, "seems all is well; the banquet is wild, the refortifications are done, and there isn't an enemy in sight. It's nice your helping us for a change instead of trying to kill us."

"We would've won anyway," Xander said sitting across from the rangers, "I recall the battles my grandfather and father told me that took place here. It's nice to not repeat history even if we never get past our differences." The chief took the hot plate Hobb set out staring at the food widening his eyes.

"Eat as much as you guys want I made plenty." Hobb refilled their cups halting when Jon placed a hand over his quickly moving on to Halders.

Xander sniffed the contents pushing the plate toward Jon, "dog food."

"Not hard to tell why we dislike you guys. Its alright to admit since we're allies that your people have terrorized innocent lives over the years." Halder stated crossing his arms.

Xalder met the first builder's gaze, "not all of us are born that way. Have you stopped to consider why wildlings climb the wall?"

"There isn't any other reason cause it's what you are. We let you through and you kill, rape, and pillage. You're born savage that was how we were raised to believe south of the wall."

"I'm sure if you asked people in the Vale they would consider the threat mountain clans far more savage and dangerous." Hobb interjected.

"Those people don't stop killing when they don't have to. We raided south of the wall for centuries because of a manifesto, a belief in freedom. You tell the stories of wildlings as savages not the ones who tried to get across only to be killed. The southerners and the Watch denied us lives in society willing to confine us here. You can admit you and your mates enjoyed killing us." Xander said.

Hobb glanced between the two, "alright were getting—"

Halder slammed his cup on the table tapping a foot on the wood, "you won't say what it is kid. Go ahead, your people were oppressed? I'd call it discipline. Your people would've took all of Westeros if we didn't keep watch, its what Mance Ryder would've done."

"No its not." Jon spoke glancing up from the map of the wall's west sector, "Mance gathered forces to protect his people from the dead, we were an obstacle to that. He won, we were beat until Stannis and his calvary rode in. The only mistake he made during his tenure was not bending the knee."

"What's your point Jon? You're their king but you swore an oath to the Watch, titles don't matter. Don't admire a predecessor." Halder said.

"Mance brought an unprecedented army together to battle the dead potentially for the survival of his people. If a motivated army turned that will toward our forces we would've succumbed in days. Mance could've killed us sooner if that were his prerogative."

The wildling chief snorted, "Hiding on the wall warped your mind builder, Mance was smart enough to pick his battles, though unlucky to come across a Baratheon." Xander said folding his arms, "don't speak about our people, yours have disgraced themselves disrespecting their vow of celibacy inquiring about our women."

Jon clenched his jaw grabbing the ale pitcher in one motion pouring a full cup drinking away while the two continued their squabbling, "Does it bother you that your women prefer to fuck us then you savage filthy—"

Xander stabbed a blade into the table staring down Halder, "talk is cheap, you want to relive the past I'll oblige you."

Halder gripped his hatchet pinning the steel blade in the wood, "I'll kill you for a hefty price, you gotta be worth something to a buyer, you're a chief after all."

"I'll kill you here for free, right now—"

The table jumped off its legs with a kick from the first ranger. "Cut the shit Halder your rhetoric is something that doesn't have a place in the Watch anymore let the past die, forging ahead is what matters." Jon said pinching the bridge of his nose releasing a sigh hearing the argument go dead silent. He placed the map of the wall down on the unoccupied space for them to see. "our builders will leave here after a rest period collecting reinforcements from the Shadow Tower. They will ride directly to Nightfort joining Castle Black's team sent there a month ago."

"It will take no less than half a year to complete the Nightfort." Halder offered sipping out the goblet.

"Most of my men are warriors. They're hard workers, I'm sure some will exchange labor for supplies." Xander replied.

Halder grunted, "I'll consider it. We could use extra hands but we're barley hanging on in terms of supplies to reconstruct our fortresses. Wood can only sustain castle infrastructure for so long, we need pristine cut stone."

"Unfortunately our treasury fund is low too. We hardly receive taxes from the dwindling population in Queenscrown and the region as a whole." Hobb crossed his arms staring at the wall towering high above them turning to the King of the North, "would you consider it Jon?" Since the North is already aiding us we could ask—"

"No," the trio halted their movements at his denial, "the North has given us enough aid. Six other kingdoms denied any help, Westeros has her own problems and so do we."

"What do you suggest? We're stuck in quite the financial predicament." Hobb said.

Jon turned their attention to the gift territory encompassing the old and new border. "There's a two hundred fifty mile long three hundred mile wide unoccupied farmland surrounding Molestown and Queenscrown stretching from coast to coast. No one settled there in the past without protection from wildling invasions. Now that we're allies we can settle people to live there."

"If people settle there they will need lords to govern over them. Our jurisdiction isn't over citizens south of the wall." The Lord Steward said.

Xander smirked downing the watch ale, "the petty lords huh? If there's one person who can uproot them from their homeland its you."

Jon shook his head, "it's easy sitting here talking about it. I don't have any power to assemble the northern mountain clan leaders, they're loyal to the Starks."

Hobb and Halder exchanged a glance as the latter spoke, "you're close to the Stark family residing in Winterfell. You could ask the wardeness to gather the mountain lords."

"I'll consider it."

"Glad to hear." Halder pointed out the vacant ruins, "that still leaves us Sentinel Stand, Greygaurd, Stonedoor, Hoarfrost Hill, Ice-Mark, Deep Lake, and finally Queensgate on the western front."

"We have more work than capable bodies to fix it. Westeros fucked us over, nothing has changed from the previous regime for us, just another goddamn afterthought." Hobb said.

"Maybe not," Jon interjected, "I was too presumptuous to assume relations would change. Our problems are internal, the kingdoms can't solve them, only we can."

Halder sighed, "you're right. The Watch's core has been rotting away over the centuries as our pride has. Lords of the kingdoms don't show respect and find no honor in serving. However under Mallister things will change, he's proven so far to be responsible and accountable."

"He trusts our plan. We use the Nightfort as a primary base." Jon circled the castle dragging the quill pen across the map drawing lines toward their position and Castle Black. "Once completed we'll split our workforce in half. One squad works toward Shadow Tower the latter goes east to Castle Black."

"The plan for the wall's reconstruction is sound however we need funds if it's ever going to happen." Hobb said drinking his ale greedily refilling Xander's cup.

Halder finished duplicating the orders on a sheet tucking it in his cloak, "I'll be sure to spread the word about our objectives to my builders. Although I'm curious what do you have in mind for the wall's east zone? Aside from Eastwatch and Oakenshield the rest are in shambles, possibly worse conditions than the west."

"Don't worry about the east, we finish our work on this front." Jon said turning to a fast approaching crow emerging into the light.

Hobb caught it on his gloved hand taking the parchment wrapped around its talon. "One of ours. Why would headquarters send another one? I'm not even sure the one I sent earlier reached home base yet." He tore the seal unwinding the paper,

"Lord Commander says its urgent, he needs to see you right away."

Jon scanned the parchment staying silent for a moment. "There's no need to wait until morning." He threw on his cloak heading for the stairs.

"Your grace!" Xander leaned back raising his cup, "you need anything we will oblige, you know where to find us." The chief wouldn't forget the ranger riding into their camp returning with belongings of the descended brothers who volunteered to assist their king. Nobody bothered asking cause of death considering he lost his team. Whatever they encountered wasn't worth discussing, Jon wouldn't speak a word of it. Xander understood the silence he wasn't sure anyone would believe him even if he told them.

Jon descended the steps heading to the stables in the courtyard below. The lone ranger patiently waited for the gates to lift gripping the reins. "You plan on going out there without anyone?" One of the gate guards asked standing beside the horse.

There wouldn't be another squad serving under him if anytime soon after losing the four members under him. Everyone he tried to protect ended up dead due to his actions. "I don't need anyone," Jon said climbing on the horse, "its best that way." He rode through the dimly lit ice tunnel emerging into the moonlit night heading east.

Since the first scouting expedition began he'd been eager to prove the walkers weren't extinct—He found nothing. The Horn of Winter was the only physical proof of their exploits in the northern territory, still he was doubtful it would work. He could see it coming since their departure from new haven keep; gaining greater strength, dexterity, and durability didn't change their fates. What did Maester Ameon always say, 'insanity is doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result.' Had he gone insane? What was the point of gaining strength if he couldn't protect anyone. Killing never bothered him, losing people did.

Jon pulled the horse over near the tree line giving it's legs rest. He hopped off the horse unstrapping the sword belt dropping it heading for the nearest tree. He wasn't strong enough to protect anyone during the Long Night, he did nothing. Millions were burned in King's Landing reflecting back on him for failing Dany. He couldn't protect anyone, most of all his family and it pissed him off more than anything. A tree splintered from his punch tumbling to the dirt, he took off the glove letting the blood drip off his knuckles staining the snow. "Dammit." He slammed a forearm on the tree, "I'm going to get stronger, I will protect my family at any cost." Jon met his agitated horse halfway noticing bear cubs emerge from the moonlight stepping out in the open followed by an angered mother charging for him. He grabbed the blade belt as the pair evaded the charging animal jumping over fallen logs fleeing into the open wilderness.

The queen stallion galloped through the icy dirt riding along the wall heading east. Jon stared into the night pulling the reigns increasing their speed. There was nothing to fear from the darkness, as most wanted nothing more than to stay in a lit castle. He couldn't have cared less after seeing what lurked beyond the wall. Not a soul would believe him even if he spoke it into existence, men had to see with their own eyes otherwise he was another storyteller. He witnessed the damn things annihilate his band of warriors in mere hours yet refused to recognize them. It was easier convincing himself they all perished in a climbing accident, buried in an avalanche, or got lost in the winter land. He didn't want to remember the manners in which his comrades died, all horrific and painful at the hands of giant ice spiders.

The first ranger's eyelids fell as the sun appeared causing him to stir sitting up on the saddle pouring his canteen's contents on his face waking him fully. Jon glanced toward the horizon smiling at the wolfpack caravanning toward his position matching their speed. Ghost split from the pack's lead position giving a parting bark to the retreating wolves falling in line with the fiercely striding stallion.

His smile grew having his loyal companion at his side, "we'll catch up when we get to Castle Black. Let's see how fast you've gotten Ghost." Ghost pulled ahead of Jon releasing a bark, "you never disappoint me old friend." The two were in a deadlock heat refusing to stop as headquarters came into view.

Denys dropped the quill opening the desk drawer handing Jon another letter bearing the Stark sigil. "The wardeness of the North had this delivered sometime during the night." The Lord Commander as Jon's shoulders dropped losing their tension as he read the letter, "you're going home Lord Snow."

"I don't understand, its a formal request. You're dismissing me from the Watch?"

Denys nodded, "the council approved this morning, I'm discharging you for personal leave."

Jon scowled glancing at the letter tossing it on the desk, "with all due respect I can't leave my post. There's too much to be done; we're in the middle of the wall's reconstruction on the eastern front and refortification of our western forts." Denys folded the letter placing it at the desk's edge. "The free folk requested assistance establishing new settlements further up north near Thenn."

Denys scratched his gray beard leaning on his chair, "I didn't expect you'd show resistance, you made it clear during our last meeting given the opportunity you would go home to see your family." The commander crossed his arms, "I like you Jon, the Watch council likes you, I don't know anyone beyond the wall who doesn't however we didn't make this decision based off noble actions or popularity, as much as you hate to hear this, its politics."

"Does Westeros know about this?" Jon asked taking the letter into his possession.

"Im not positive, this isn't a need to know basis. Its my understanding the North is a independent kingdom. I'm sure she made this decision without consulting the other lords."

"When will I be summoned back?"

Denys shrugged, "I can't say for certain. We're at the queen of the North's mercy, she'll send you when she's ready. Barring an unforeseen event I imagine it will be awhile until we meet again."

"I made a vow to serve for all nights, I'm abandoning my post going back on my word."

Denys laughed surprising the first ranger, "the Watch is going to need you I assure you Lord Snow. Your dedication is awe inspiring, you're one of a kind." The Lord smiled slightly sitting up in his chair, "go home Jon, see your family. A man's duty to take care of their loved ones is the most important in life."

The elder was right, he owed his family to do everything he could for them as he had for the wildlings and watchmen. "I'm going home."

"Indeed you are. You're free to go Lord Snow."

"Understood Lord Mallister I'll be back sooner than later, I plan on going on a second expedition into the winter land."

Denys halted his document shuffling, "you want to head back? In your report it was stated you found nothing."

"I didn't look hard enough, Next time I'll find something."

"Do what you think is right. However I can't allow you to command a squad after the avalanche incident. The four rangers you led were well trained for the harsh conditions I thought. In any case its a little disheartening they died for nothing."

His squad mates didn't die for nothing. He would make sure when the time came the truth would be revealed. " I understand Lord Commander." Despite the trust they built since their meeting Denys wasn't an exception. He couldn't tell anyone without proof—Belief wouldn't be afforded to him otherwise.

"Good. Anything else Lord Snow?"

"No."

"You're dismissed. I wish you safe travel." Denys stood shaking Jon's hand, "Lord Snow." He called halting the ranger at the doorway, "that cloak your wearing isn't standard issue, it's Mance Ryder's cloak isn't it?"

"Aye it is. How did you know?"

"I commanded the Shadow Tower when he was stationed there as a ranger like yourself. When he returned from beyond the wall I gave him an ultimatum to burn it or leave the brotherhood."

"I wouldn't blame you if you told me that now."

Denys smiled, "no, the Watch changed its outdated thinking because of you. Besides you are more than just a ranger, to the free folk you're their king—It suits you, keep it. Although I would appreciate it if you wore your standard cloak on castle grounds."

"Thank you Lord Commander Mallister."

"Until next time Lord Snow."

Jon kneeled at his personal footlocker conversing with fellow watchmen about the reconstruction efforts. He took out the Stark furs Sansa made for him when they took back Winterfell from the Boltons. It was sewn to resemble his father's cloak, now it looked disheveled leaving it nearly unrecognizable from the abuse he put it through during his journey. He put on plain clothes strapping the fur cloak on placing the Watch's apparel in the trunk. He took Mance's cloak after a few moments of contemplation stuffing it in his satchel locking the trunk leaving the barracks behind.

"Ready to head home Ghost?" Jon asked turning to him as Castle Black's gates closed behind the duo. Ghost barked in response earning a smirk from the ranger, "alright, don't whine to me when you lose." The two dashed down the King's Road unwilling to lose their continued race.

The journey traveling from Castle Black to Winterfell wasn't short despite the Stark's ancestral home's northern location. Jon and Ghost covered roughly fifty miles a day breaking their trip into two weeks. The pair raced, hunted wild boars, and rested staring up at the stars decorating the sky. Jon folded his arms behind him staring at the sunset, unbelieving he was free south of the wall. He rested on Ghost's stomach relishing the snores from his companion. It'd been months since he last saw Ghost head off into the forest with his pack. He didn't have any doubt his friend grown stronger taking up the alpha mantle. He smiled as an overwhelming feeling came over him, "Almost home." He said falling asleep on Ghost.

The duo emerged from Wolfswood side by side staring at the familiar castle tucked in the distance basking in Sun's light. Jon and Ghost rode toward Winterfell unwilling to lose the final race's final leg.

"The wool, hide, and timber supply has been shipped to High Garden your grace. I received a raven moments ago, livestock, fruits, and grain are on schedule for arrival in the coming days." Hugo a senior advisor said bowing as his tall frame towered over the group.

"I'm glad to hear it. The Reach's food will keep the North fed for the foreseeable future until we can fully nourish people with our own crop supply."

"My queen the major northern houses unanimously informed us they will travel with the convoy tomorrow." Maester Wolken said catching up to the lady of Winterfell's strides.

"Every house is attending?"

"The exception being House Glover."

"Thank you for telling me."

"Open the gates!" Winterfell's small council turned toward the gate guards commotion at the front entrance, "the first lords are arriving already? They're earlier than expected." Another advisor inquired.

Sansa hesitated recognizing the familiar face descending a white horse greeting the Stark guards as they backed away seeing Ghost. The council stood in awe watching their queen lift her dress running for the Hunter's gate.

Jon smiled stepping through the citizens eyeing him curiously meeting Sansa's gaze as she halted returning his smile. She leapt into his arms holding tightly confirming it was really him. "You're home."

"I'm glad to see you again Sansa." He tightened his hold keeping her feet off the ground, "are Arya and Bran safe too?" Jon stumbled back catching her dropping his smile hearing Sansa's sobs buried in his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." She cried holding him tightly, "I don't know Jon...I don't...Arya is..." Sobs came harder as Jon held her placing a hand on her back. There wasn't a doubt in his mind he was right where he needed to be. Jon refused to let go even as residents surrounded them witnessing their reunion.

Jon reread Arya's last letter setting it on the charted map of Westeros. The final words she wrote conflicted his emotions, 'I'll come back I promise, stay safe, don't come looking for me. I'll see you soon.' He folded his arms staring at the vast Sunset Sea separating the two major continents Essos and Westeros. "When did this letter arrive?"

"Almost a month ago," Sansa stepped to the table placing a hand on the letter tracing Arya's handwriting, "I should've told you in my last letter however I didn't want to worry you, I know how busy you are."

"I would've stopped what I was doing, this is more important than anything."

Sansa smiled warmly, "thank you for coming home."

"You'll never have to thank me Sansa, I'm here because I want to be." Jon turned to the map surveying the far east reaches of Essos. "Did Arya give any indication of where she was heading?"

Sansa shook her head sighing, "I asked but you know Arya. I'm not even sure she knew where she was going. The crew's navigator suggested they sail around Westero's southern coast to go east. She refused and I let her go knowing how dangerous it would be." Sansa shut her eyes placing a comforting hand on an arm, "I let my sister go into the unknown, worrying something like this could've happened, I'm an idiot."

"No you're not." Jon took his eyes off the map finding hers, "without you Winterfell would still be flying enemy banners or a pile of rubble. You protected the North as father would have wanted allowing us to live free even if it meant we weren't here."

Sansa's smile returned as she stepped closer to the map inquiring about Jon's scribbles. "Do you have an idea where she could've sailed to?"

"There's only two realistic places she could've landed since her departure." Jon circled two geographically distinct lands in opposing directions, "the saffron straits is the only way to Essos. I can only guess she chose between sailing to Ulthos in the south or the Shadow Lands up north."

"Where do you think she landed?" Sansa asked following Jon's quill tracing the lines over the map, "they're so far away, I can't imagine Arya made it to both."

"The Shadow Lands. Asshai is the only major city in the region. If she were on the original course I'm assuming she was heading to Qarth."

Sansa placed a hand under her chin, " I can imagine why Arya would want to visit the Queen of Cities." Sansa stared at the contemplative ranger as he drew another line. "This is my first time hearing about Asshai or the Shadow Lands."

"I've only heard stories, the ancient city is somehow always shrouded in darkness."

Sansa narrowed her eyes at Arya's letter wishing to see her sister again. "I can't help worrying about Arya Jon. I sent her out there with a crew not an army, she could be out there alone."

Jon met her eyes smiling, "don't worry Sansa. I'm going to bring Arya back no matter what."

The eldest Stark studied the him noting his changed demeanor since their last meeting. She was deeply saddened by his torment after killing Daenerys, seeing him in that state devastated her. He looked wounded, broken and it hurt more they couldn't do anything to help him. Now he seemed assured of himself more than before, growing even stronger after she violated the secrecy pact and the events following. She did it for Jon's sake and the love of her family, her gamble ended up being right but still ended up hurting Jon in the end. She knew he realized she loved him but still it broke a principle and more importantly a promise. "I am glad you're here Jon, its been a lot easier without you undermining me." She chuckled folding her hands.

Jon half laughed, "Aye I'm the one that undermines you," He said matching her chuckles, "it's good to be home Sansa. I'm happy to see you again." Jon took the letters placing them in his satchel, "that settles it I'll ride for Castle Black. I won't be able to bring any rangers. I should get Lord Commander Mallister's permission to commandeer a ship."

Sansa furrowed his brows, "have you ever set sail alone? How would you know where you're going?"

"No I haven't. I'll figure it out on the way, that's worked for me this far."

"Jon that's a terrible plan."

"It's the only one I got." He glanced at Sansa who failed to halt a smile unwilling to meet his gaze.

"Its not your only plan, wait here." Sansa walked to the table's other end shuffling through papers returning with a particular one. "Maester Wolken brought this to my attention only days ago from the Iron Islands. Yara and I were planning on traveling together to King's Landing for the festive convocation. She withdrew at the last moment because of threats sent to her doorstep. Her Dorne diplomat's head washed ashore a week prior, she doesn't feel safe leaving the islands unprotected until the culprit is dealt with."

Jon turned his attention to the islands on the map. "I'd do the same. Whoever is threatening is making it personal—they're trying to intimidate her." Jon folded his arms unable to come to a conclusion, "I can't think of any faction that would want the Iron Isles, there's a lot richer and less protected kingdoms." Whoever was after her held a deep personal grudge who the hell did she piss off?

"Whoever the culprit is they're an awful person. She requested assistance, I told her I'd help. Would you mind traveling there Jon? I'm worried about her."

Jon nodded, "I'll help her, she's Theon's sister. She was important to him so she's important to me."

Sansa placed her hands behind her back glancing at the fresh map markings. "Yara is one of the most experienced and skilled navigators in Westeros. She sailed every sea, I'm sure she would be willing to help you for your assistance."

The Wardeness held a gasp as Jon rested a hand on her shoulder, "brilliant Sansa, with Yara's help we have a really good chance at finding Arya." He turned back to the map scanning his eyes over the vast ocean separating the continents. His previous plan had chance of minimal to no success however with the Greyjoy's aid their chances increased exponentially. "I won't have an army and I can't bring the rangers outside their jurisdiction—" Jon paused noticing Sansa's stare, "do you have another plan?"

Sansa smiled standing beside the ranger, "I do. There is something I need to ask you first Jon—" The pair turned to the opening doors revealing a groomed Ghost in tow beside Maester Wolken.

Wolken bowed, "pardon my interruption your grace, Lord Snow. The council has gathered in the grand hall for our daily proceedings, citizens should be arriving within the hour."

"I see," Sansa picked up the wolf crown settling it on her head securely, "apologies Maester Wolken I must've lost track of time."

"Not to worry your grace we're still on schedule, I will await your arrival outside the hall."

"Thank you Maester Wolken."

Wolken turned bowing toward Jon, "it's great to see you again, welcome home Lord Snow."

Jon returned the gesture surprising the older man, "I'm glad to be back Maester Wolken. It's good to see you as well." The maester smiled warmly leaving the trio alone.

Sansa cradled the direwolf in her arms kissing the top of his head, "I missed you so much Ghost." She held Ghost's face nuzzling against his fur giggling at his comforting licks. "Jon what happened to Ghost's side?" Sansa questioned running a bare hand over claw marks scratched into his side.

"He was ambushed by a bigger wolf."

Sansa hugged Ghost tightly raking her hand through his fur running it along the missing ear and new lengthy scar, "poor baby, I'm really glad you're home too Ghost."

"He isn't a pup anymore Sansa, he leads a wolfpack as their alpha."

Sansa frowned standing to meet Jon, "maybe Ghost should stay here, he isn't getting any younger, he deserves to be free of fighting."

"Ghost will be fine. He's not an indoor pet, he needs to roam the wild."

Sansa held a hand over her mouth unable to contain her chuckles, "I could almost say the same for you Jon."

"What makes you say that?" He asked.

"I hardly recognized you at first glance, I wondered if you've been taking grooming tips from Tormund."

Jon scratched the lengthy beard, "I forgot I had this, the nights watch and wildlings don't care much for appearance."

Ghost nudged Sansa's leg whining to grab her attention, "you must be starved Ghost we'll go to the kitchen they'll have plenty to feed you. Come along you two."

The trio walked into the family compound passing the unoccupied rooms once housing the Stark siblings. "Sansa we passed my room, where are we going?"

"it's a surprise I think you'll like it." They stopped outside an all too familiar room at the far end of the compound past the common room and library. To Sansa the chamber had been a comfort for her siblings growing up, now it only brought painful memories. To Jon it was forbidden, he wouldn't dare enter without Robb or father.

"This is your room."

"No, its yours Jon." Sansa opened the door stepping aside to allow Jon to view the chamber. "Go on tell me if you like it."

He didn't waste time running a hand along father's oak desk he, Robb, and Theon would watch him work as acting warden exhausting himself into the day, they all hoped to do the same when they came of age.

"Do you like it?" She asked sitting on the bed furs.

"I love it..." Jon said taking one last look taking a seat next to her, "You're the lady of Winterfell and this is the lord chambers. It's only right you should have it."

Sansa shook her head, "I'm fine Jon, I moved into Robb's old room. This room isn't the same to me anymore after—" Jon grasped her hand silencing the words.

"I understand you don't have to tell me Sansa." He said releasing the hold on her hand relieved to see her sigh comfortably. "I've always wanted this room, you've done so much for me Sansa. I didn't think you'd want me to come back, your life would be better off without me after all the trouble I caused. I was relieved when you sent the letter for me to return even if I don't deserve—"

Sansa grabbed his hand squeezing tight, "of course I wanted you to come home. I want you to know you'll have a place here, always Jon." Sansa stopped herself from hugging him again. She wasn't sure he'd forgiven her and it was understandable if he didn't.

Jon hated being the cause of his family's worrying, especially Sansa's, she had too much on her plate. He halted himself from embracing her, he wasn't ignorant to his cousin's feelings about physical contact. He pulled her to her feet running a thumb over her knuckles, "thank you Sansa." Was all he could muster before letting go.

"Your welcome Jon."

Ghost stood off the floor eyeing the two curiously. He bumped Sansa sending her stumbling into Jon as he held her up glancing at Ghost glaring at them. "Are you alright Sansa?"

"Yes I'm alright." She held back a breath feeling the strong grip retract, "you've waited patiently Ghost, you must be ready for your treats the chefs made."

"Hang on Sansa—" Jon centered the silver crown adjusting it to the rightful place, "it suits you."

"Thanks Jon. It can be uncomfortable on occasion and a little much."

"It looks good on you. You're the Queen of the North, I should be bowing to you."

"Don't you dare Jon Snow." She chuckled placing her hands behind her back, "will you join us for dinner? The mountain lords are visiting to discuss territorial disputes since they weren't invited to the capital."

"I'd be a fool to skip a visit from the petty lords."

Sansa smiled stepping towards the door, "good, get some rest I'm sure your journey wore you out." She reappeared a moment later surprising the ranger, "one last thing Jon."

"What is it Sansa?"

"Hand me your cloak." Jon obliged giving her the worn furs. She examined the wear and tear for a moment before offering a smile leaving with Ghost.

Doing mundane tasks felt foreign at first. Months on the road traveling throughout the North didn't allow ample time for even relaxation or proper rest. Everyday he felt strained and tired having to adjust to a habit of making uncomfortableness his comfort zone. He was thrown into the fire beyond the wall fighting new conflicts that threatened peace. Winterfell's safety was a haven, giving a sense of contentment—He was home.

The ranger emerged from the washroom relieved he didn't have a line of rangers banging on the door to use the single latrine in the barracks. He ran a hand over the trimmed beard surprised to recognize himself in the mirror.

Jon passed the bed finding no need for sleep, Arya's whereabouts plagued the forefront of his mind. He sat at his father's desk reading Arya's letters detailing sights Yara could possibly recognize from her extensive experience on the sea. He took occasional glances outside recognizing the dying light. He lit candles illuminating his workspace continuing to draw lines down the map to fast track toward the Iron Islands.

The king beyond the wall left the room stopping a few doors down from the library at Arya's room. He placed a hand on the door knob debating to enter or not. He decided against it wishing Arya were here coming to dinner with him. Jon passed through empty corridors, noting the deafening silence. He would never get used to the quiet , growing up the halls were filled with chattering and laughter—Now it was all memories.

Sansa met Jon at the hall's entrance, you do have a face under there. I almost forgot what you looked like." She said smiling warmly.

"It wasn't that bad was it?"

"Looks better this way."

Jon's gaze roamed Sansa for a moment quickly finding the ceiling, "the wolf bit on your dress is a nice touch, it looks good on you. That wolf is familiar to me."

"I spent a lot of time making this one, I'm happy you like it. The direwolf is Greywind; It's fitting Rob and I's favorite color is grey, I made it in honor of him." Sansa linked her arm through Jon's leading him to the table, "did you rest well?"

"I got plenty of rest, feel a lot better."

"You need sleep Jon, you look exhausted."

"Aye since I shaved now I resemble a tired child." Jon smiled hearing Sansa's laugh wishing to hear it again.

"Where are you going?" She tugged on Jon's arm, "you're sitting next to me, not on the other side."

The northern lords raised their filled cups greeting the pair as they took their seats at the hall's table: Wulls, Flints, Norreys, Burleys, Harclays, Liddles, and the Knots clan leaders ate their full clamoring for more shoving past one another to gain food. Jon joined pushing their hands away from his plate as he took what he could before the lords' greed overtook the feast.

Sansa stared in awe having Jon back under Winterfell's roof eating as if there wasn't a tomorrow. "Don't forget to drink or you might choke." Jon snatched the cup she scooted toward him downing it in one go. "Its good seeing your table manners didn't change Jon, I wish they would feed you more in the Watch."

"Great to meet you in person," Brandon Norrey said across the table scratching the long beard, "some say you're a ranger, some call you the King beyond the Wall, most would call you a queenslayer—"

"What're you asking Lord Norrey?"

"We're asking who you are." Hugo Wull interjected, "everyone tells stories about you, how you're some type of God to the free folk, a once feared enemy among the clans." The large framed man spoke. It didn't take Jon long to realize he was the strongest of the bunch aside the hefty appearance hence his nickname 'the bucket.'

"I'm not a king, just doing the best he can to protect the people who can't defend themselves."

Hugo nodded to the others, "we had guessed as much Lord Snow, you do understand our trepidation's about the wildlings?"

"Your houses fought against their raiders for centuries, it's understandable."

"My lords, the wildlings are considered part of the North after their efforts during the Wight's Invasion. If they chose to live here then we'll accommodate them accordingly." Sansa said continuing to modestly eat her fill.

Hugo grunted unable to argue her point, "at least they ain't the Iron Born, wildling invasions are a rarer occurrence then the pain in the ass sea raiders."

"Pardon your graces," Lord Flint said from the table's end, "not more than a year ago my house and I fought raiders led by a wildling called Weeper."

"One of Mance's war chiefs."

"Aye the one who beheaded your brothers in arms and pillaged my branch houses." Lord Flint asserted a distain tone, "you made peace after Mance's death after the centuries of your brothers' blood spilled beyond the wall at their hands."

Sansa could see Jon's jaw clench as his hand tightened on the utensil, "I didn't care much for wildlings when I first joined the Watch. Mance spared my life after seeing what I saw, walkers beyond the wall. It was then I understood his reasons for gathering an army. The message was carried to Hardhome, Weeper died along with most of the wildlings there."

"Normally I would've opposed your plan, seeing you were bringing in women, small children, and a giant. The Night's Watch must've not been happy."

Jon grinned slightly at the irony, "they killed me for my decision." He didn't miss the lords' stunned expressions at the blunt statement, "Allistor Thorne rallied a loyal garrison to ambush me for doing what I was believing was the right thing."

"You did the right thing Jon." Sansa said offering a small smile in his direction.

The lords understood his reasoning, had they known the dead were marching to their homes threatening to wipe out all existence, their decision would be the same as Jons. Lord Flint broke the silence moving on from the past events, "Lord Mallister and I are close after thirty years of peaceful donations and reinforcements. He told me his initial thought commanding over you; aside from your fighting prowess he said, 'that young man ended a bloody thousand year feud conflict by dying for both watchmen and wildlings uniting the North beyond the Wall then putting his wishes and wants aside for the duty and love to his family. That's a true war hero people can rally behind, let alone soldiers in combat— an unstoppable force on the battlefield.'"

"That's an honor coming from someone as respected as Lord Mallister." Jon faced the lords settling his cup, "he was wrong about one thing, I'm not a hero." He said sending the petty men into a fierce debate about the Lord Commander's words.

"You are to me."

Jon turned to Sansa opening his mouth to respond, "Lord Snow," Torren Liddle called waving the long shaggy hair settling his hands behind him, "my son Duncan told me you went on quite the journey during your exile, he won't shut up about it in his letters."

Jon wasn't familiar with the first name, he only ever said his nickname. "Big Liddle, your son is one of the best rangers we have. I haven't seen him in months, he was sent to the Nightfort from Castle Black with the builder garrisons."

"That boy talked all about it in his letter. He took pride serving under you and protecting your body from Thorne and his loyalists."

Sansa smiled watching Hugo wrap a large arm around Jon's shoulders forcing him into their toast, "let us feast and recount tales about 'the Ned!'" Lord Harclay said.

"The Ned?" Jon asked turning to Sansa.

"That's their honorable name for father."

"I'd rather not be addressed as the Jon."

Sansa chuckled in a palm, "I prefer not as well." She stood refilling their cups happy to host her guests, "before one of you tells an age old story Jon has something to propose to you all."

The ranger halted mid-sip meeting the Lords' curious gazes, "I have an offer I want you to hear."

"Go on spit it out ranger." Lord Barley urged sipping the wine cup adjusting the eye patch to better cover the scar.

"The Night's Watch is more desperate than its ever been. When I left with the wildling caravan north I had requested reinforcements from the kingdoms of Westeros. I was unanimously rejected by everyone except the North. Thanks to our queen we were able implement a formed reconstruction plan on the western front."

"I see you garrisoned workers across the wall with limited supplies, soon to be insufficient." Hugo surmised.

Jon nodded, "the gift territory you live on the border of, Lord Norrey, Flint; its scarce population isn't enough to sustain a steady food supply, farming south of the wall isn't something the Watchmen could do."

"Don't get me wrong, what makes you think we would want to leave our land in the Wolfswood mountains to become low farmers in plots of empty land."

"You misunderstand Lord Wull. Fine by me if you want to live comfortable lives where you always have. However people won't settle without a lord's protection." Jon rolled out a map across their table end, "I need you guys to distribute which territory you want, there's plenty to choose from."

"We won't deny fertile land Land Snow, however we know you're not handing it over freely, if we accept what are the terms?"

"The thirty four percent of your taxes and a certain number of crops will be paid forward to the Watch instead of here." Sansa said following the newly arrived maester leaving toward the corridor, "if you'll pardon me my lords there are matters that need my attention." The mountain lords stood bowing to their queen leaving Jon bewildered in his seat.

"Excuse me a moment." Jon abruptly pursuing the Lady of Winterfell halting upon hearing their hushed conversation, "petty lords." He mumbled heading out the great hall.

"Sansa." Jon called catching up to her. Wolken went on ahead leaving them alone in the darkened hall, "you studied my map earlier, you knew I was going to ask about the gift."

"It was obvious the Watch needed the territory Jon. I received reports about the current state of the land months ago and couldn't find a solution until now. Besides this will benefit you and keep your men nourished during your construction along the wall."

"And the taxes? I'm taking revenue away from you and the North."

"Jon," Sansa almost chuckled his name, "surely you didn't track me down to argue over taxes?"

He narrowed his eyes toward the floor, "no its not that Sansa," she folded her hands over her abdomen attempting to read his features. Whenever Jon spoke she always listened sharply as he didn't waste words. "You keep helping Sansa, you've given me everything and I have nothing for you in return."

Sansa offered a warm smile stepping into the torch's light, "you owe me for nothing, you've done more for me than you'll ever know." She added the last part softer than the first, "taking care of my family is very important to me, I'll do everything in my power to help you guys."

"You've helped me more than anyone Sansa, thank you." It was all he could say after everything.

"You'll never have to thank me Jon," she placed her hands behind her back leaning to examine Jon closer, "you're hiding something from me." Sansa folded her arms, "you don't have to tell me, you're free to keep it to yourself I don't deserve to know—" She sighed tucking her arms underneath the dress furs, "I won't keep this in, you once told me we needed to trust each other..."

"What is it Sansa?"

"Bran's council rejected your request on his order. My proposal reintegrating you into Westeros was torn apart so I took the liberty of asking your lord commander for permission. Bran wants to leave you in exile out of Westeros, it isn't right."

Jon furrowed his brows crossing his arms, "its fine if he wants to send me back, I'm finding Arya first and bringing her home before that happens."

"I won't let them force you away. I will accept sanctions in their southern politics any day to keep my family together."

Jon felt relieved Sansa felt the same way about reuniting everyone, "would you be able to bring Bran to Winterfell? I haven't seen him in awhile."

Sansa hummed softly, "Bran is cryptic as ever even in his letters. He isn't the same Bran I used to know regardless I'll always love him. Then again none of us are the same kids that grew up in these walls ages ago." The northern queen grasped at her arm, "I don't think he wants to come home Jon."

"Can you ask him for me? Tell Bran I need to speak with him Sansa. If he truly wants me out of Westeros, I'll go when I see him one last time." Sansa didn't take her eyes off Jon's narrowed features. It wasn't hard to tell he wouldn't want to separate after reuniting them nor would Arya or her want him to leave. It hurt to see him sacrificing everything for them asking nor expecting anything in return—he was too honorable for his own good sometimes.

"I'll talk to him Jon although I'm not sure he will be happy you know?"

"Yeah, why's that?"

"I'm disobeying the king."

Jon laughed heartily leaning a forearm against the wall, "you're a trouble maker Sansa Stark."

"Speak for yourself, trouble finds wherever you go Jon Snow."

"Aye can't argue with that." He drew more attention indirectly everywhere he went. He felt peace being home talking to Sansa, it would be a relief to finally tell someone who would understand. "I saw Uncle Benjen Sansa, I encounter him up north during a scouting mission beyond the Frostfangs."

Sansa gasped holding a hand to her chest "you saw Benjen," her mouth fell slightly agape, "you told me he saved your life from the walker herd north of Eastwatch. You weren't sure if—"

"He's doing well Sansa. I'm glad he made it out alright. Benjen also saved Bran and Meera Reed during their trip south, he's always looking out for us even when he isn't around anymore. He asked how you and Arya were doing."

It was gratifying seeing Jon break from his usual brooding to rare exuberance, "I trust you told him we are doing well."

"I did. He was right Sansa. He said I would be needed here at home, I told him not to worry I'll protect you guys with my life."

"You're not the only one who feels that way Jon. I may not be a fighter but I want to protect you guys more than anything. When you and Arya return the lords will try to force you back north like a prisoner." Jon saw her fists tightening showing her anger, "I won't let them take you away from your home, I will do all I can to protect you."

"I already caused enough trouble for you Sansa and I don't want to bring more here to Winterfell. I'll return to the wall when the time comes."

Sansa narrowed her eyes toward her feet hearing Jon's submission to the council's demands, she'd be damned if they forced her family to their will. "What if you didn't have to go?"

Jon glanced at her unsure of what she meant but he gave his answer, "I'd stay if it were possible."

A small smile played on her lips, "good, it's official then."

"What's official?"

"You're the Warden of the North Jon."

The hallway stilled as neither moved letting silence fill the room. "Sansa, you hold the wardeness title, I can't take it from you—"

"You can and you will. you wanted to be named warden right?" Sansa saw the trepidation plaguing him, he didn't take her words lightly. "I realize you didn't want the Iron Throne. Since our conversation last time you told me you intended to ask for two things; an independent north and to be named warden." She sighed noting he was still unconvinced, "I could really use your help Jon, you know me I know next to nothing about military operations."

"Sansa—" He still didn't understand why she chose him. "You're giving me the most coveted position in the North when I don't deserve it."

Sansa placed a hand on his shoulder, "you don't derserve it Jon, you earned it. Without you the North would not be here either. You're not the only one who wants to do everything for their family."

"I'm still half-Targaryen, the northerners aren't ready yet."

"They're your people too," she removed her hand causing his stiffening to reduce some, "you were their king once with good reason, people follow you because of who you are."

Jon nodded relenting, she was right it was time to reintegrate himself with the people residing in the North. "I used to be a cynic throughout my life until seeing dragons flying overhead Dragonstone. When it was revealed who I was and who my parents were I became a cynic again. The time I spent beyond the wall I wasn't sure you'd want me back until receiving your letter. It kept me going during some tough times reminding me I have a home and family." Sansa searched the familiar eyes finding truth, he was a Stark at heart, "I thought you would've been happy to leave me up North in exile." He wanted to give Sansa something for her assistance in every facet of his journey up until now to show he was appreciative, "for all you've done I have nothing for you in return."

"I'm glad you got my letters I was afraid you wouldn't read them, and you don't owe me anything Jon." Sansa did miss having him around, in his absence it got lonely sometimes, "I remember growing up an optimist my young life, the moment we rode south I suppose I became a cynic like you. I never knew how you felt until then, it made me wish to see you again. I remained a cynic losing hope at one point I didn't know—" Jon placed his hand on her forearm calming her shaking, he didn't wish to cause her pain remembering the past. "Even when we reunited I didn't change...It wasn't until you emerged out a body pile charging to Winterfell from the Boltons. For the first time I had real hope, I was wrong Jon, I believe you can protect others, you can protect us."

He didn't want much more in life than to protect and please his family making them happy as possible. They had differences established between them disagreeing with one another on occasion. However their commonality was evident, the pair sought to reunite their family scattered throughout the world while spreading their own interpretations of justice to those that had none. "Alright Sansa. I accept being Warden of the North."

"You say that as if you had a choice Jon. I will start announcing the decision to the Northern houses when our convoy meet on the border."

"I'm glad you finally admitted it Sansa."

"Admitted what?"

"You need my help to rule." Jon said unable to contain a toothy grin.

Sansa's mouth fell slightly hearing his claim, "I-I don't need your help Jon Snow, I said I could use your help there is a difference, and stop doing that with your teeth, it's worrying!" She said attempting to pry his mouth shut to hide the smile. Jon unsuccessfully wrestled her wrists from his face matching her laugh.

Maester Wolken's halted steps separated the two as he bowed, "Your graces, I have prepared the Northern houses' proposals addressed to you for the small council, they're just waiting for your approval my queen." He bowed once more leaving them alone once more.

"Since you're officially warden there are a few things I need to go over before you leave. Visit the silversmith first thing in the morning then meet me in the Godswood. Sleep well Jon."

"Goodnight Sansa." Jon turned toward the hall meeting a pair of ruby eyes cutting through the darkness. Had Ghost been there the entire time? "There you are Ghost I haven't seen you all day, come on let's entertain the petty lords for awhile." He halted his walk as Ghost trotted past him leaving his side, "Ghost where are you going?" He walked to hall's end locking glancing up at the ranger, "alright go on then." Jon watched his companion leave unable to stop the forming smile.

"Ah Lord Snow you decided to join us again! Come sit, we're recounting tales of times we encountered the Ned!" Brandon Norrey said draining the mug's contents through his wooly beard.

Jon listened to the mountain clan lords tell their tales revolving around his late father. His interest piqued at Hugo Wull's story about his own father standing alongside Howland and Ned to fight Aerys the Mad King's kingsgaurd at the Tower of Joy. Theo Wull was killed in the Dorne Red Mountains proudly and loyally giving his life for the Stark family—for him.

He didn't bother announcing his newly acquired title to the lords, it wouldn't have changed their opinion of him. They were more eager to know his whereabouts in his time serving the Watch beyond the wall. "You guys really want to know where I've been?"

"We're practically family Lord Snow, since we are going to be neighbors in the near future tell us what us Lords are supporting our Watchmen for." Lord Flint declared barley sitting his skeletal frame up from intoxication.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." A smirk crossed his features as the lords were sent into a frenzy changing from their humored expression upon seeing the jet black tusk like fang in the ranger's hand.

"Thanks," Sansa offered a weary smile as Wolken replaced the dying candle with a fresh one returning light to the room. "I should be done soon, only a few more left."

Wolken sighed seeing how worn the queen was from her day, he hated seeing her refuse sleep. "It could always wait until morning your grace, we have some hours until our departure, rest would do good."

Sansa rubbed her eyes glancing at Ghost resting on a rug near the fireplace. "I've received every letter from the houses' letters across the North except House Glover. He sent imported stock reports and request a formal request for military aid."

The latter seems peculiar, it begs the question as to why he requested soldiers." She didn't think twice about Lord Glover's requests the moment he to chose to forgo the northern convoy riding to the capital. 'Perhaps it's because he isn't in favor of Jon returning, lest being name warden.' It was the right decisions she stood by. Telling the lords ahead of time he would accept the position at the last meeting was agreed favorably upon with exception being House Glover.

Sansa stood stretching her tense muscles, "I will finish the last few in the morning they are rather lengthy to read in candle light."

Maester Wolken gave a smile, "it has been a long day my queen."

"It has been for all us, you need sleep as well, I will see you bright and early."

"Yes your grace, sleep well." He bowed swiftly leaving the room. Ghost stood from his place near the fire trotting to Sansa sticking close to her hip.

"Let's get you something to eat, I'm sure you're hungry." She scratched behind his good ear leading him to his favorite spot in the castle. Sansa was content having Ghost at her side strolling the outskirts of Winterfell. Observing the community's night life became a favorite pastime since the Long Night. No matter what she went through or how her day played out she could always escape here for clarity. It got tougher when she didn't hear from Arya waiting for Jon and Ghost's arrival. She couldn't bring herself to cry until running into Jon when he inquired about Arya triggering the anxiety and sleepless nights she had worrying for her sister.

Ghost cut off Sansa's path halting her walk rubbing against her knee. Sansa cupped Ghost's face running her hands along his fur, "I'm feeling perfectly fine Ghost, everything is alright now."

Sansa and Ghost stood outside a doorway on the outward edge of the castle. An elderly woman opened up welcoming the queen in handing her brown furs and a small pristine sewing box. "It's all prepped and washed as you asked. I handled the lining making it salvageable, however due to my many years of experience I suggest buying a newer one." Olga said brushing her gray streaked hair. The short woman pat Ghost softly as he bowed his head toward her.

"That's okay Olga this is perfect, I can handle the rest." Sansa said holding the fur cloak against her frame.

Olga smiled setting out a water dish for Ghost tucking a loose strand behind her ear, "this cloak had reminded me of your father's. When returning from somewhere your mother would bring me his cloak to realign adding new furs before stitching it together."

"I do remember accompanying my mother on occasion, she would work tirelessly on it. She always said father loved his cloak dearly refusing to wear another."

Olga's worn features brightened, "I see. This is your cousin's cloak, that explains the poor condition of it when you first brought it to me."

Sansa ran a hand over Ghost's fur, "it is. Jon doesn't have much, this means a lot to him, for everything he's done this is the least I could do."

"I understand your grace, you wish to keep your family happy." Sansa nodded unable to contain a smile holding onto the cloak, "it's magnificent to see you smiling again, it suits you."

Sansa nearly dropped the dropped the cloak quickly regaining her grip, "I was smiling?"

"Yes very much." Olga placed her hands behind her chuckling softly.

The Lady of Winterfell stared at the cloak touching the direwolf sigils facing each other engraved into the leather strap. "Everything's going to be alright now." She said thanking Olga hugging the elder tightly.

Olga removed the bowl beneath Ghost petting him once more, "you should rest your grace you look exhausted. The trip to King's Landing will be tiring."

Sansa brushed stray hairs off her face, "I will certainly try, thank you for all your help Olga I shall return your needle and thread in the morning."

"It's quite alright dear I will see you upon your return."

"Thank you again, goodnight Olga."

"You're very welcome, goodnight my queen."

Sansa and Ghost resumed their stroll through the castle grounds greeting late night passerby's enjoying a quiet moment. The pair passed the desolate great hall being cleaned and sanitized by workers. She figured Jon and the other lords were long asleep tiring themselves out from their feast.

The pair found their way back to the Stark common room settling near the fireplace, "up Ghost, sit with me." The direwolf set his head on her lap while she began work connecting the old furs to the new ones restructuring the war torn cloak. Sansa hummed melodically using the fire's light to intricately weave its individual stitches together. "What is it boy?" She asked as Ghost's attention drifted toward the hall before returning to her. "You're worries about Jon aren't you? He's fine, he is probably dead asleep by now, you two had a long journey after all—" Ghost leapt from the cushioned lounging couch slowly walking down the compound's hall. "Ghost where are you going?" Sansa settled the cloak trailing the direwolf.

"Jon is sleeping Ghost, I assure you he is fine." Sansa said placing her hands on her hips as Ghost whines rubbing against her leg before clawing at the door, "Ghost don't," she sighed folding her arms, "I'd rather not disturb Jon's sleep but if it will prove he's perfectly fine."

Sansa opened the Lord's chamber door seeing Jon laid in bed at the far end. "See Ghost nothing to—" Sansa held a hand to her chest hearing a growl echo across the room. She glanced at Ghost confirming it didn't originate from him. Sansa stepped toward the animalistic grunts emerging from the darkness. She threw a hand over her mouth seeing Jon's scars illuminated in the moonlight engraved deeply along his torso. The stabs wounds were still visible as well as large claw marks similar to Ghost. The sheets beneath him were soaked as sweat fell from his shivering body. "Oh Jon." Was all she could murmur watching his knuckles turn white gripping the bed unable to keep still. Sansa met Ghost's gaze; had he wanted her to see this? The pain Jon went through every night hiding it from the world.

"No, no! I-I'm sorry..." Jon rolled his head to the side gripping the sheets. His teeth gritted emitting another growl thrashing around, "I'll protect...Have to...Protect."

Sansa wiped at her eye holding in the urge to cry seeing him in this condition. During their childhood days she avoided him like a plague as the years passed. She could recall their last conversation before they separated eventually reuniting at Castle Black:

_"I can't believe the prince and future king of the seven kingdoms is visiting Winterfell in a few weeks. I heard Lord Stark is good friends with his father Robert Baratheon, is there wedding bells perhaps?"_

_Sansa nudged her best friend Jeyne Poole sharing a giggle with the brunette "oh hush its much too soon to speak such things, but I hear he is stunningly handsome." The girls squealed holding each other's hands disturbing a nearby trainee._

_Jon halted his training ceasing his fast swings on the practice dummy, "can you two find someplace else to gossip it's distracting."_

_Sansa rolled her eyes, "ignore him." She continued giggling beside Jeyne. Jon stopped minutes later unable to take their childish gossiping any longer. He caught most of Sansa's badgering of her birthplace propping up the South's potentially greener grass._

_"If you want to leave the North behind just go already." He said turning toward the castle armory._

_Jeyne chuckled at Sansa's bewildered expression as her mouth fell agape from Jon's rare outburst, "yeah well I hope you stay far beyond the wall, no one will miss you when you're gone y'know."_

_Jon halted gripping the sword tighter before his shoulders slumped as he left the premises, "harsh." Jeyne said playing with the hem of her turquoise dress._

_"Don't worry about him, he's a bastard. I'll probably never see him again, he's not my family."_

Sansa's tears fell on Jon as she reached a hand out wishing to take away the pain he suffered through. "Jon..." Her voice was barley above a whisper drowned by his panting grunts. Her hand traced the long claw mark reaching the old stab wound directly above his heart.

Jon yelled snatching her arms causing her to silently gasp unable to create a sound noticing something she didn't recognize brewing beneath his eyes. It disappeared when Ghost barked appearing at her side. Jon released Sansa immediately reeling back collecting his breath, "Sansa..." His brows furrowed realizing what he could've potentially done, "Sansa did I—I'd never hurt you I'm—"

Sansa leapt at him wrapping her arms around his neck, "Jon I'm sorry, I had no idea you were holding in so much pain." Jon didn't move glancing at her closeness before falling into her shoulder. He hugged her unable to calm the shakiness running through him. "How long has this been going on?"

"It started after journeying beyond the wall with the free folk caravan. I can't forget what I saw up there Sansa, losing people never gets easier, I regret those I couldn't save..." Jon held onto her like a lifeline, "I was almost out there too long Sansa..."

"You're home now Jon. You need rest, perhaps you should stay here a few more days, I'm worried for you."

Jon held tighter shaking his head, "don't worry about me, I'll be fine. I'm going to bring Arya home, I swear it." Sansa caught Jon's weight as he fell limp against her passing out from exhaustion.

She wasn't sure how much time passed as she sat on the bed holding Jon's still form. Whatever it took for him to get a restful sleep she would do even if it required her to stay like this the whole night. A smile formed hearing his breathing even out indicating he was in a deep sleep. Sansa laid Jon on the pillows tucking him in.

Sansa stood not taking her eyes off his peaceful features contrasting greatly from the discomforting expressions earlier. She couldn't hold the hot tears sliding down her cheeks. It was her who orchestrated the mountain clan lords to meet with Jon having an intention to help. Instead she only caused the ranger pain forcing him to recount his adventures beyond the wall for the petty lords entertainment. She knew Jon well, he remained most true to himself out of their family after what they went through over the years. He rarely talked about his exploits, often for good reason and it was her fault he relived his trauma unable to be at peace. "No matter what happens, whenever you go, I will always worry for you Jon."

**—**

**XXX**

**—**

"Consider me surprised you chose the cheapest and most common form of under armor, I would've suggested leather or better yet chainmail armor." Asher the aged silversmith said throwing aside his charred apron.

"Maintaining mobility is crucial in battle, I can't afford to be a walking target even if given reinforced armor." Jon said tucking in the the black clothed armor tying the loose strands tightening it.

Asher ran hand through the balding scalp scratching his large belly showing Jon the mark two armor. "In that case enjoy this breastplate my team made especially for you." The silversmith unveiled the familiar Stark armor handing it to the ranger. He held the breastplate tracing the two wolf heads joined at the center. "We made it from scratch and the frame from the last model. We developed and tested this steel to withstand impacts without deforming permanently. First it was experimental, the base material started out an amorphous steel alloy composed of some promising sub classes of metallic alloys originating all over Westeros. Fortunately we ended up settling on iron as another component. Long as you don't take a direct him from a cannon the armor will hold out through most of anything while providing sufficient maneuverability." Asher said pulling the leather buckle straps on the shoulders fitting Jon to the new armor.

"This is a considerable upgrade compared to the last incarnation, I find this far less stiff."

"Glad it's to your liking Lord Stark."

"I'm not a Stark—"

"Many don't see it that way. Especially since you're wearing this." Asher tapped the gleaming steel proudly, "in the world's eyes you're a Stark."

Jon shook the elder's hand departing the silversmith work area heading toward Godswood. Winterfell's residents stared in awe witnessing him stroll through castle grounds in shiny new armor differing from his humble ranger appearance a only day earlier.

Sansa stood besides Ghost smiling at the sight of Jon emerging from the tree line. "You look better like this even if black is your color." Sansa said glad he resembled how she remembered, "I see your armor fits well."

"It's lighter than the previous one, I should be able to move around a bit more."

"Good, I wanted to make sure I took into account your critiques about the previous model." He hadn't realized until now she listened to his random ramblings in their previous casual talks. Sansa held the furs tucked in her arms for him to see, "this is yours by the way."

Jon took the cloak holding it up unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. "It looks brand new Sansa, I can't believe you did this in a night, even the straps are replaced." He couldn't throw the furs on fast enough.

Sansa tucked her arms underneath her own, "you remind me so much of father, he used to dress in the exact attire."

"I can never live up to him, I just hope he's proud of me."

Sansa stepped closer scratching Ghost's good ear, "of course he would be proud Jon," she glanced at the heart tree's blood red leaves, "you shouldn't change Jon, being you makes, you—you." She froze as he stood arm's length grasping her hands examining them.

"You hurt yourself fixing my cloak." He said focusing on the small cuts and slight bruising decorating her fingers.

Sansa pulled her hands away hiding them from him, "I'm fine Jon, there are more important things to worry about."

He nodded understanding minor scrapes were the least of her concerns. "I missed coming here, this used to be father's spot. No matter what he went though he could always find peace here."

"My mother would find him beneath the heart tree whenever he was absent. This old place has become my sanctuary too." Sansa, Jon, and Ghost turned to the gates slamming open in the distance followed by a horn sounding off. "The northern houses are arriving. There's one more thing I need to show you." She said gesturing the pair to follow.

Sansa halted at the top stair stepping aside allowing Jon to view the Stark army assembled in the courtyard. "You're the military man, what do you think?"

"Impressive. They're well armed and look fully nourished, however they're young Sansa. Most if not all are boys." The Watch's recruits were far from kids. Most had the right amount of life experience to be held accountable as men under the court of law. Choosing between a life of crime or being a disgrace to house obligations in turn losing out on inheritance. "They've never seen a battle."

Sansa ran her gaze over the forces, "no they're very inexperienced. The northern army you marched to King's Landing with retired from service. We've remained peaceful since, only needing an army for protection."

"I understand this is more than I could ask for Sansa, beats going at it alone."

"I am never sending you alone anywhere."

"I don't want to leave you alone either," Jon kneeled embracing Ghost, "look after Sansa until I return with Arya, though I'm sure you would even if I didn't tell you to." He said running a hand through the snow white fur.

"You're leaving Ghost with me?" Sansa arched her brows staring at Jon as he met her gaze.

Jon nodded, "yeah its for the best. He isn't a fan of the water he'd probably get sea sick pretty quick, besides I'm starting to think he likes you better." He narrowed his eyes at the resting direwolf.

Sansa held a hand over her mouth, "Do I sense someone is jealous?"

"I'm not jealous." Jon seethed folding his arms, "I just don't want him being coddled and spoiled. He can't sit around eating all the time, he needs to keep shape as an alpha."

Sansa chuckled linking her hands in front of her, "you have nothing to worry about. Its a long journey south I'm sure he'll find time to exercise."

Jon petted Ghost as his companion stood by his side. "I know I don't have to tell you twice; be on your best behavior, stay close to Sansa." He gave a final pat turning to Sansa.

"Travel safe Sansa. I want nothing more than to come along to protect you. I'd feel better if I was."

"I know," a smile graced her lips causing his eyes to widen, "I feel better now that Ghost is accompanying me. You don't have to worry yourself over me, besides you're needed elsewhere."

Jon stood arms length offering a smile, "no matter where I am, what I'm doing, I'm always going to worry about you Sansa." A horn blasted once more as the castle gates opened drawing their attention, "the next time I see you, I'll have Arya with me. I'm bringing her home Sansa."

"I believe in you Jon."

Jon gave a final glance one descending the steps meeting the army's lieutenants as they began familiarizing Jon with the respective regiments. He waved to Sansa and Ghost which went quickly returned as they watched him disappear into the crowd. "He will be fine I'm sure of it." She smiled warmly placing a hand on Ghost, "we have a long journey ahead ourselves shall we greet the lords?"

The Vale army rode through the East gate passing the Stark army. Their armor and shields boasted a white falcon volant and crescent moon on a blue field. The two armies hollered at each other sizing one another up. The Stark soldiers displayed the grey direwolf on a white field engraved on their shields and armor not backing down from the better equipped Valemen. "Once we leave Winterfell we will travel southwest to Torrhen's Square collect our ships and set sail on the lake to Saltspear into Blazewater Bay. From there we should be able to reach the Iron Islands in the least amount of time." Jon said rolling up his map dismissing the lieutenants to their garrisons.

"Lord Stark!" Jon distanced himself from the yelling armies facing the familiar voice "it really is a pleasure to see you again." An older tall man said shaking Jon's hand firmly.

"Lord Yohn Royce, it's been awhile."

"That is has Lord Snow, that it has." The Lord of Runestone offered a smile, "from what I've heard your time beyond the wall has been most interesting."

Jon nodded, "you heard right Lord Royce, isn't easy being considered a king to the free folk and ranger keeping the peace."

"You have all my respect for shouldering the responsibilities you are now." Yohn ran a hand through his gray hair commanding an officer to escort their regiments in the castle away from the Stark forces. "I must apologize for my words the last time we met. The wildlings are just as much part of the North as any northman, I was wrong—"

"You're not the one who felt that way Lord Royce. I realize not everyone will change their mind, hearing one person has is enough, one at a time."

"I assure you Lord Stark I'm far from the only mind who's changed. You shattered old mythos surrounding the Targaryens, you're a hero in Westeros."

Jon glanced at the two armies separating from their scuffles disentangling their weapons, "I just hope the people in north will accept me again."

"In time they will see you as they had your father. As warden I have no doubt you'll help the North bringing justice to those that need it like you're doing beyond the wall." Yohn said.

"I'm honored to be mentioned in the same breath as my father, he was the greatest man I knew. What makes you think I can fill his shoes?" Jon asked folding his arms.

Yohn Royce folded his vale cloak showing his Runestone clad armor, "when your father became Jon Arryn's ward we both bonded through hunting becoming friends over the years. You remind me of him at this age. Also my youngest son served in the Night's Watch giving his life honorably. Seeing as you're the first ranger I trust your judgement Lord Snow."

Jon hadn't known Yohn well yet respected his word. He was a friend of his father and rallied the Vale bannerman to fight under Sansa in their battle to take Winterfell from the Boltons. He opposed Littlefinger placing mistrust in him the moment the cunning man seized power in the Eyriee earning a great deal of trust from the northern warden. "That means a lot comin from you, hope I live up to it." He said tucking himself in his cloak for warmth, "I'm sorry for your loss, Waymar was a good person." Yohn met Jon's gaze hearing his late son's name spoken. "On your way to the wall you both rested here a few days. My brothers and I talked to Waymar in the training yard. Me and him served at different times but he gave me a certain hope that night."

"What was it?"

"Becoming a ranger for the Nights Watch was all he ever wanted to be. Hearing those words coming from a young lord as a bastard meant everything, paving the way for me a few years later."

Yohn held back an unshed tear sharing a warm smile, "To hear you say that means a great deal Lord Stark."

"Lord Snow is fine. Wearing the armor doesn't make me a Stark."

"Aye you're right, it's what lies underneath the steel. You were born a Targaryen and grew into a Stark, knowing your father as I did he'd be proud to see you take up his mantle."

"I can't take any credit. Without the Lady of Winterfell I'm just another soldier in shiny new armor."

"With all due respect I tend to agree with that notion Lord Snow." They shared a laugh catching each other up to speed on their time since Bran was crowned. "My son Waymar would've been honored to serve alongside you in the Watch as he was with Jeor Mormont. My elder boy Robar would've equally guarded you instead of Renly Baratheon seeing as you were the rightful heir."

"Your sons were proud, they died for what they believed in, I did. I'm going to die again someday after I bring Arya home."

A carriage pulled by eight horses riding beside a tall Shire carrying Robin Arryn stopped outside the gate passing traffic through Wintertown. "Lord Royce, Lord Snow have you two been getting alone nicely while waiting for me?"

"Lord Snow meet Robin Arryn Lord of the Eyrie and Warden of the East."

"Jon good to meet you Robin." Jon never missed a chance to gauge strength from the simple gesture of greeting. Despite Robin's superior armor there wasn't a way in seven hells he'd beat him.

"Same to you Lord Snow. You're wearing Stark armor, your back in Westeros I take it."

"Not for long, I'm returning to the wall soon I reckon."

Robin removed his gloves placing them on his hilt, "you're returning to your kingdom, the first ranger and king beyond the wall, and now warden of the North. I hear your the greatest swordsman anyone up north has seen."

"You askin for a fight?"

"I'm warden of the East, lord of the Eyrie-"

"Yeah Paramount Lord, why not have a duel between wardens."

Yohn stepped between the combatants glancing between the two, "Lord Snow the journey has been draining, Ser Robin needs time to—"

"I don't see why not." Robin placed the gloves on running a hand through his brown bangs. The soldiers stopped their movement gathering around the wardens. "My armor is superior ranger, I'm able to take far more damage than you, not to mention I look better in mine." The east warden's armor resembled a gold cloak with the exception of the blue plates and cape decorated in House Arryn's sigil. "You will regret the day you challenged me." Robin unclipped the cape tossing it aside onto the resting Shire.

Robin drew his sword handing to a young ward who quickly pulled out a whetstone sharpening the blade. "I'm undefeated in the Eyrie tournaments, I've grown quite bored in recent months. Slaying mountain clans can grow quite weary after awhile."

"Why slaughter them? What did they do to deserve it?"

"The savages rejected my peace talks unanimously, their philosophy poses a threat to the Eyrie. They seek to retake the land they lost years ago refusing to simply abandon their ridiculous manifesto. They chose their way killing whomever they please, what would you do ranger?"

"I wouldn't slaughter them, there's better ways to handle it. The Night's Watch is always looking for soldiers to guard the realms beyond the wall."

Robin laughed adjusting his gloves, "don't be too sure of yourself, not everyone is so willing to serve an outdated oath. The Watch must've got lax on their devotion since you're carrying a prestigious title."

He couldn't deny the Paramount Lord's statement, the previous Night's Watch leadership would've denied him an exit condemning him for his current actions. "Times are changing, nobody is above service to the Watch, second chances are our speciality." The humor faded from his expression, he had a purpose being here, "even if I had to abandon my oath, I will give up everything to protect my family. I have to bring Arya home no matter what."

Robin took a caution step back realizing why Jon was feared and respected among peers and enemies. "I heard rumors of our cousin's disappearance. I understand you care about her missing she's your family after all. I'm curious however, what makes the Queen in the North have so much faith in you? Does she believe you can really find wherever she vanished to?" He asked snatching the newly sharpened blade out of the ward's hand.

Jon couldn't keep a smirk etching across his features, "let's fight already, don't waste time."

"I wouldn't get too prideful ranger, I've been trained by the finest swordsmen in the Vale."

"Have you killed someone before?"

"What kind of question is—"

"By your own hand not a command given to another." Jon rested a hand on the new scabbard noting the spectators gathering around.

"Robin perhaps you should reconsider—" Yohn started.

Robin held a hand up silencing the lord, "I intend to win this duel Lord Royce, there isn't a better way to establish myself as a world class swordsman."

Robin broke out in a sprint toward Jon raising his sword aiming it at the ranger's head. Jon evaded the fierce swing side stepping out of its path keeping Longclaw sheathed. Soldiers from both factions were steeped in fascination witnessing the North warden's lightning counter reflexes. Robin's sword whirled wildly missing its intended target by a mile. "Stop this farce duel and fight me Lord Snow!" The East warden shouted seeing his opponent's weapon remain idle.

Jon glanced at the angered Paramount Lord placing a hand on the white wolf, "so be it, don't regret this when you die." He was a predator stalking its prey sensing the heightened fear from a mile away. Robin wasn't any different from any other opponent he'd encountered. His big runny eyes hesitated as he lunged aiming for Jon's head once more.

Robin's sword tip landed in the snow feet away from where they stood leaving him with a half broken blade. "You wrecked one of the finest swords in the Vale, that sword you're carrying, it's Valyrian."

"Aye it was given to me by my first lord commander Jeor Mormont." Jon sheathed Longclaw in the scabbard helping Robin to his feet. "I'm not gunna kill you."

"I'm thankful for that otherwise we could have a war on our hands." Robin smirked discarding the broken blade, "you're as strong as the rumors say, there's no way I could've matched your strength."

"You're on your way. I can't call you a coward, most men would've ran the other way and not spared a glance. Train more, and most importantly refine your skills in live fire otherwise they will waste."

Robin frowned kicking the dirt beneath his boot, "no matter what is done I won't be able to match your sword prowess." His grin returned removing the gloves, "I look forward to challenging you in archery and jousting."

"Jousting?" Jon held in a laugh shaking his head, "isn't that a competition for girls in dresses?"

"You really are a soldier rather than a lord it's quite refreshing to say the least Jon. Its the lords' pastime to settle differences when political discussions failed: territory, marriage, pride is at stake in front of the competing houses. It's a shame you won't be attending the King's Landing festival, there will be all types of fierce combatants gathered from around the continent."

" I don't have time for any of that. Besides those are games, even tournaments are horses shit."

"I thought you of all people would love a fitting pit tournament Lord Snow." Yohn inquired.

"When I fight someone I want it to be for real. A tournament would only expose my tendencies making it easier for opponents to pick up on my style."

"Spoken like a true Stark. I do intend on defeating you in the next tournament if you're up for it." Robin grinned taking the newly glistened sword from his ward.

"Whatever you say." The trio turned to the Vale commander pushing through the parting soldier lines towing his horse.

"Lord Arynn, Lord Royce apologies for my tardiness, our remaining forces are on their way—" The knight halted staring at the ranger clad in Stark armor removing the winged helmet showing off sandy blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and a sharp jaw, "Jon Snow the queenslayer and king beyond the wall, I've been looking forward to this for some time. Harrold Hardyng of house Hardying, Waynwood, house Arryn's first valeman. He placed the war helmet on revving the nearby forces up, "I'm going to see what a Stark is made of today when I bash your brains in."

"Lord Hardying this isn't the time—"

"Harrold Hardyng House Arryn's shield has been eager to fight against you Jon." Robin said instigating a duel between the two.

Jon didn't care the opponent standing in his way, he would fight everyone the same knowing only one speed. Harrold was the type he detested growing up. Something about knights from a noble house made his blood boil. "My army leaves in seven minutes. Don't waste my time."

Harrold removed the circular quarter patterned shield off his back displaying his personal heraldry: half shares the red and white arms of House Hardyng and Waynwood's black and broken wheel resting in a green field, the other half is dedicated to the moon and falcon sigil of House Arryn. "I'm the Vale's strongest knight, from what I gather you're the best the North has to offer."

Jon drew Longclaw raising it toward the knight, "you're going to need more than an overdecorated shield to beat me."

The falcon shield charged slamming repeatedly against Longclaw meeting the ranger's forceful swings head on. The shield whirled through the air smashing against Valyrian steel. Jon slashed the shield several times countering lunges unable to break through Harry's defense. The Vale warrior kept the ranger at a distance unwilling to match the sword's intensity any longer. Not once had he used a sword, the shield is his only, and greatest weapon.

Harrold stared behind the falcon shield frustrated facing a man surpassing his reputation. He zig zagged kicking up dirt clashing against Longclaw booming an echo throughout Wintertown. Harrold stumbled back countering Jon's parry barley guarding against the momentous strike reverberating his shield. Longclaw's slashes deflected off the steel holding its ground against the shield's assault.

"We should stop this before it gets out of hand Lord Arynn."

"No need Lord Royce, it seems this fight is coming to a rousing finish."

The falcon shield smashed into Longclaw testing the ranger's grip. Jon held firm as Harry approached raising the shield high slamming into the blade sending him skidding. "There's good reason I'm being sworn in the Kingsgaurd. I'm one of the fiercest fighters in my country, I'll show you why they call me the falcon!" Harry reeled the shield hurling it through the air.

Longclaw met the rotating shield unable to keep the momentum pushing him back digging his boots in the snow. The shield picked up speed spinning faster igniting sparks onto Longclaw pinning it against his chest. With a forceful shout Longclaw redirected the shield sending it crashing into a trading cart smashing the wood to pieces. Jon grabbed Harry's wrist halting the dagger attack throwing him back. He sheathed Longclaw pulling out a hunter's knife approaching the knight.

The spectators watched in awed silence as the two heavyweights exchanged knife jabs at arms length distance, "without your shield you're an average fighter."

Harry grimaced gripping the blade tighter, "the falcon shield should've broke your sword and every bone in your body." He stepped out of the knife's way slashing toward the ranger forcing Jon to strike his wrist tossing Harry over him. Jon evaded the dagger's lunge wiping the blood trickling off his cheek stumbling out of the way.

Jon avoided another lunge grasping his outstretched arm kneeing Harrold's elbow hearing a crack forcing the knife to drop. "It wasn't my sword that stopped your attack, if you haven't realized that you're never going to kill me, it won't happen—Not like this!" Jon struck a palm in his chest sending him crashing through a vendor's booth. Harry emerged kicking the debris aside tackling the ranger past a nearby fence releasing livestock into the road. Harry retreated grabbing his shield confronting the approaching warden as he clutched his sword eager to continue the duel. They broke out into a run raising their respective weapons charging one another head on.

Robin and Yohn stepped between them abruptly halting their intended attacks. "Move the hell out of the way, this isn't over!"

"With all due respect remove yourself from my goddamn path Lord Arryn so I may finish this bastard!"

"Stand down Lord Hardyng, we've seen quite enough." Robin said turning to Jon who placed Longclaw in its scabbard, "as for you warden bravo, nearly beating a kingsgaurd is a world class feat."

"I didn't win because of you."

"Don't blame the draw on them ranger, we will fight again and I swear the result will be different." Harry said removing the winged war helmet waving golden curls leaving with his garrison.

"Impressive Lord Snow, he's one of the top fighters in our land, hell in all Westeros. Harrold was hand selected by the king personally, perhaps joining would be best to avoid excommunication." Yohn said standing beside the East warden.

"My concern isn't what happens to me, my focus is on finding Arya. It starts with the Iron Islands, supposedly a threat is paying them a visit."

Yohn whistled to a Vale commander sending for him, "how many soldiers are you commanding Lord Snow?"

"Fifteen hundred."

"Take five hundred Eyrie soldiers with you as a show of good faith." Robin said noticing the Stark warriors await the warden's presence.

"Don't worry about giving them orders, the Vale is a supporter of the North," Yohn clasped a hand on his shoulder, "the way you fought Hardyng, any soldier in any army would fight alongside you."

Jon nodded shaking Yohn's hand "I'll be sure to bring them home, however there isn't a timeline on how long we'll be gone."

"Take as much time as need Jon. I haven't had the pleasure meeting Arya, though I wish to save her too, she's family after all." Robin said.

Jon shook Robin's hand, "I'll find someway to repay the favor when I get back."

"It's no trouble at all Jon. We're cousins, someday we'll be brother-in-laws." Jon arched a brow in the Eyrie lord's direction as he wore the Vale armor proudly, "I plan on marrying Sansa after all. Our cousin is most beautiful is she not?"

Yohn couldn't mistake the feeling; having trained for years in his youth becoming a prominent fighter among the Vale. He knew fear heading into Robert's Rebellion intending to keep Jon Arryn safe. His hand grasped the sword hilt at the hip. He didn't understand why he felt this way toward a trusted an ally, was the ranger suddenly a threat?

The gates slammed open breaking the silent moment, "can you protect her with your life?"

"I would."

"You got outclassed earlier in our sword fight, jousting isn't much for protection."

Robin chuckled, "it's understandable you feel this way you all grew up as siblings under our uncle. Providing armed forces isn't enough to make up for the rejection to your order's request and earn your approval. I assure you the journey to King's Landing will go without a hitch."

Jon nodded, "whatever you say cousin." He said placing the leather riding gloves on.

"Then I trust you wont interfere with the courting?"

Jon chuckled shaking his head, "no, its Arya you have to worry about."

"Gods speed on your journey Jon."

"Aye safe travels Robin." Jon watched the East warden lead the remaining garrison units toward the Stark forces lined in town. He glanced over at Yohn staring at him, "Lord Royce."

"Lord Snow." Yohn stood by as the warden gathered his forces beginning their march out of Wintertown. He remained unmoved staying frozen in the same spot. Whatever flashed across Jon's eyes stood out from the Stark, something he never saw from Ned in all the years they'd known each other. For a moment he saw a glimpse of another person from the one he knew or perhaps he saw who Jon truly was.

"Lord Royce care to join me?" Robin called breaking him from his stupor. The pair entered the East gates seeing the army off before sealing the gates shut.

Jon smirked seeing the two thousand manned army mounted on horses preparing to ride off into the rising sun. "Banners up!" Jon yelled sending Stark and Arryn flags rose throughout the formation. House Hordwood halted their caravan outside Wolfwood's tree line witnessing the warden of the north leading his army west into the horizon.

**—**

**XXX**

**—**

**A/N: Next: the chapter will open with Yara Greyjoy on the Iron Islands and Jon forming an alliance to face a familiar villain. If this chapter wasn't your cup of tea the next will be 95% battle, so stay tuned.**


	7. Blood Ties

"Your grace, I would suggest waiting until the small council in King's Landing—"

Yara slammed her hands on the table quieting the first defender and the council huddled at the war table, "the six kingdoms won't be any help to us, they have their own matters to attend." Yara met her council's gaze studying each and every one potentially seeing some for the final time, "the noble houses are caravanning with our northern allies on the King's Road. They will send word a weeks journey from the capital's convocation. The kingdoms are in parlay, I trust in our evacuations to the Riverlands. Our main houses Blacktyde, Drumm, Goodbrother, Greyiron, Hoave, Merlyn, Stonehouse, Sunderly, Tawney and Wynch all left joining the North, Vale, and Riverland caravan currently held in Riverrun."

A tall red bearded warrior crossed his arms turning to his queen, "that's good we won't put most of our people in danger should worst case come to pass. What do we do then your grace, our forces can't handle a full scale attack, we're still recovering from our lost resources. Much wasn't left in the wake of your uncles rule as king, our resources and siege weapons are very limited." Bluetooth said causing the advisors and lords to bow their heads.

"Five of our ships sailed on a diplomatic mission. The wreckage washed on the Westerlands before they could reach the sand country, it's all too reminiscent of the attack two decades ago." A raven haired Tristifer Botley marking an x within a hundred mile radius calculating the enemies position. "We still don't know who're behind these attacks your grace nor who lays responsible."

Yara grimaced, "I have a hunch, but it couldn't be..." She placed her hands on her sides, "whoever it is doesn't matter, our islands aren't protected by the mainland. The incoming hostiles will take free reign over our lands assuming their arriving from the south."

"Perhaps," Ser Harras Harlaw said stepping to the table, "they're planning to draw a line here." He ran his hand across the Pyke, "whoever it is attacking demonstrated clearly they aren't hiding their intentions. The enemy is coming directly here for the Salt Throne."

Shouting broke out across the war room causing Yara to whistle rubbing her temples soothingly, "I have a contingency none of you least our enemies has any prior notion about." Questioning eyes found the Pyke ruler awaiting her explanation, "I managed to find allies willing to help us fight our invaders."

"Who is it your grace?" Harras asked.

"The Queen in the North Sansa Stark sent the warden and two thousand men to assist guarding our isles."

"Your grace, you kept this from us? We should have been notified—"

"No Bluetooth, you should not have." Yara said returning her gaze among the table, "there's a traitor among us." The Ironmen steeled looking to one another hearing their queen's word, "their isn't any possible way for our enemies to have prior knowledge of our route to Dorne. It matters not right now we must prepare for the Warden's arrival, all will revealed after the upcoming battle, now is the time to prepare. Make sure the garrisons are sailing off the coastlines in the next hour." Yara dismissed the meeting sending everyone toward the doors, "not your Harras." She said keeping her attention on the map.

The Greyshield Lord patiently watched the others leave the room coming to stand beside his cousin. "my queen."

"You're the only one I can trust at the moment Harras. Ever since the incident to our diplomats I had to avoid an international conflict with the new ruler of Dorne and prep the islands for war." Yara offered a slight smile, "at least I have you, you're practically the only family I have left."

Harras clasped a hand on her shoulder, " I was grateful to your father for letting me stay here among you and your brothers. They would all be proud of you, especially Rodrick."

She recalled their early days growing up on the Pyke and Ten Towers castles, "you two were foolish to challenge uncle Victorian to sword fights."

Harras chuckled running a hand over his long face, "I remember well. You would patch our wounds while scolding the hell out of us."

Yara folded her arms adorning a smirk, "you were both idiots, but those were some of the best times in my life."

"I can only say I'm sorry again for not being there for you and Theon, I had no idea—"

"No need to throw blame to yourself Harras, I made you swear to protect the Iron Islands as it's first shield and you have your uncle at the Ten Towers to look after."

"Our uncle Rodrick will be fine. What I let happen to you guys," Harras sighed heavily settling his hands on the table, "especially Theon, he deserved much than what the Bolton bastard did to him."

Yara smiled fondly staring at the horizon out the castle balcony, "Theon did deserve better. I admit there were times I wished you were born my brother instead. When he refused to leave that bastard's dungeon believing me a trick, I thought him dead. When he abandoned me on Black Wind I vowed to never forgive him."

"What changed your mind?"

"He came back for me in King's Landing. I wanted to kill him for after untying me, however he was different. Despite everything he lost, my brother returned a man belonging to a home." Yara warmly smiled remembering the last time she saw Theon telling him to fight for the Starks—His true family. I suppose we have Jon Snow to thanks for that."

The Grey Garden knight arched a brow, "Jon Snow? The 998th Lord Commander of the Nights Watch and Queenslayer? He was sent to the wall as a criminal. What does—Don't tell me he's the newly appointed North warden you mentioned," Harras crossed his his arms furrowing his features, "I understand why we weren't informed, you wanted to use him as our element of surprise, though based off his reputation subtly isn't a word used to describe him."

"No it's not, the Northern Warden doesn't need to be subtle, he's quite the opposite in fact." Yara pointed to Lordsport's harbor, "he will be in charge of our castle's defense, the enemy is likely to make a strong attempt to seize it."

"His forces have no familiarity with our own geography, it could be trouble for their garrisons."

"I won't have anything to worry about since you'll be the one leading the charge alongside our northern allies."

Harras laughed breaking his usual stoic nature, "It was too good to be true you kept me here because you actually enjoyed my company—" he grunted from the sudden strike to his shoulder.

"You're far too rough on yourself. I trust you with my life. You were one of my three champions during the Kingsmoot and my fiercest supporter."

"I'm honored as always my queen, you can count on me." He followed her markings eyeing the specific lines drawn through the projected enemy fleet. "What will you do then?"

Yara smirked meeting his gaze, "I'll be subtle."

"Your grace, Lord Harlaw. The northern fleet is approaching." The maester Wendamyr said holding the door open for the pair as they quickly left the war room.

The Stark fleet stormed through the breaking waves rising the high tides turning most stomachs on board. The ships sailed beneath Pyke's serene rock archways serving as the foundation for the castle. Young soldiers stood in awe of the aging structure having only heard stories of the Iron Islands. The vessels prepped to disembark on Lordsport only a few miles away. "Mister Stark, I don't feel so good." A young soldier leaned over the railing puking the breakfast they'd eaten at their brief pit stop on Iron Holt.

"Jon's fine kid." The warden said patting his armored back, "better to get it out now before the battle."

"There's the harbor warden, don't suppose they brought the welcoming wagon." The tall brunette lieutenant said strapping his sword belt to his waist ordering the others to do the same.

"Let's hope so lieutenant." The Northern army scrambled preparing for the Pyke Queen's royal reception at the docks.

Yara stood at the council's front accompanied by Harras Harlaw of House Harlaw, Tristifer Botley Lord of Lordsport, Qarl the maid sworn to house Greyjoy along with his sailor companions Skyte and Uller. Gylbert Farwynd Lord of House Farwynd of the Lonely Night followed by his three sons Gyles, Ygon, and Yohn. Finally there was Erick Ironmaker, Lord Steward of the Pyke and House Ironmaker, a scarred old man born a bastard brought his three grandsons Urek, Thormor, and Dagon who stood proudly behind him.

The allied forces docked in the large harbor meeting the Ironborn forces, "the Warden of the North Jon Snow, you've come a long way from being a ranger in the Night's Watch."

Jon smirked, "I'm still a ranger don't let the fancy armor fool you. It's good to finally meet you in person queen of the Salt Throne Yara Greyjoy." He reached out returning her handshake firmly.

"Are you always this humble?" She asked hiding rare amusement.

"Only when I'm not in a battle." He replied causing her smirk to grow. Jon turned toward the salt council, "appreciate your hospitality Lord Ironmaker supplying our forces with food and shelter until the storms passed last night."

Erick and his grandson bowed slightly, "it was an honor hosting your army. We aren't a large noble house but we take pride providing care for our allies. We're lucky there was an abundance stockpiled since the island's population dwindled from due to the festival in a King's Landing."

"You nourished my forces, they nor I will forget it anytime soon."

The white haired man nodded throwing his oversized oak sledgehammer, "it's our pleasure, your grace, your father was an honorable man after all, we think much the same of you."

Yara stood aside leaning on a messy brunette's shoulder glancing into his large eyes. Based on the way they awkwardly held and shifted past one another Jon assumed they have a history. "Jon Snow I'd like you to meet Tristifer Botley, the lord of this port town."

"Your reputation proceeds you Lord Snow. Anything you need from Lordsport it's yours. There are no citizens here." Tristifer said.

"I'll take you up on that, we need all the space and supplies you can provide. Just tell me where I need to be your grace, the northern army is at your service." He said turning to Yara.

"I'm starting to like you already Lord Snow, if you'll follow me." She halted a moment placing a hand on Tristifer's shoulder, "station our units here I'll return shortly." The Greyjoy forces spread on the dock gathering roughly a quarter of the allied military preparing Lordsport's defense. "Is the Iron Islands everything you hoped it would be Lord Snow? Our lands are not known in Westeros for sightseeing." Yara said resuming her walk falling in line with Jon's strides.

"The islands exceeded my expectations and your people are hospitable, far from the sea raiders most of Westeros make you out to be."

"I could say the same for the North. Not only are you now the warden, you also serve as a ranger and considered the king beyond the wall to the free folk. I'd love to hear of your exploits after all this." Yara said leading her army beside Jon descending the port steps to Pyke's beach guarding the only entrance to the fortress.

Jon chuckled shaking his head, "you wouldn't believe me even if I told you." He grew stern once more bringing up his real purpose of being before her, "I'm sure you know I need your help."

"Of course Sansa Stark notified me about her sister's disappearance asking if she stopped by here sometime ago. You have my word, after we share victory I promise to do everything I can in my power to assist you."

"Good, I need all the help I can get." The duo strolled in silence staring toward the thunderous waves crashing on the beach.

Yara glanced at the Jon as he stared toward the horizon focusing on his missing cousin, she was really on his mind, "the Queen in the North has provided you with fancy armor and an army, I trust she's doing all right then?"

"She is." Yara didn't miss the warm smile encompassing his features contrasting his usual broody nature. "Everything aside I'd rather be here than King's Landing."

Yara halted stepping off the last stair, "that's something we can wholeheartedly agree on Lord Snow, I'm not fond of the capital's pig shit stench." She walked a few feet in front of the allied forces gesturing to the land before them, "welcome to Pyke's finest beach. It doesn't compete with the Reach or Westerlands however it will make due for the upcoming battle."

"I can't think of a better place, any idea when they'll arrive?"

"No it could be at anytime now, stay alert." Yara stepped to the ranger's side locking gazes, "you sure your army has everything it needs. If they need more rest I would understand. Its been a long journey from Winterfell and your army is young."

"Aye we're inexperienced, though we don't lack spirit, we'll fight till our last breath." Jon adjusted his gloves staring at the southern horizon awaiting the enemies emergence. "Sansa met Dunstan Drumm during her stay in King's Landing, he was kind enough to open his doors to our forces to receive their well deserved rest leaving siege weapons in exchange for their absence."

Yara smirked crossing her arms, "I see now. I'm glad both of you thought ahead, you're really determined to see your cousin again."

"I'll do whatever it takes to bring her back safely."

The captain smiled tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "he came back for me and returned to Winterfell because of you." She said earning Jon's attention. "In the end, he found his place among your family. For the longest time I thought my brother a coward, dead to me. After he had rescued me he told me your words to him; you told him there wasn't a choice. He was a Stark and a Greyjoy, that your father resides in him too. I think it was a relief for him that he wasn't Balon's son, it put him at peace."

Jon couldn't contain a smile staring up at the gray sky recalling his forgiveness toward Theon in their last meaningful conversation on Dragonstone. "He made mistakes as we all have. For the longest time I blamed him for my family's death. I was convinced had he stayed in Winterfell Robb would have won the Five King War and everyone would be alive." Jon released an unhumorous chuckle "I was fooling myself looking for someone else to. blame, had he stayed his fate would've been the same. The fault was mine, I kept my oath rather than marching to fight beside my brother Robb."

Yara sighed softly standing beside him, "Theon believed you would've killed him after what happened to Sansa." She narrowed her gaze to the waves crashing against the dampened sand, "that monster Ramsay Bolton hurt them both badly...I didn't realize the extent of the damage until he left me on a burning ship with a knife at my throat...In some ways I understood it..." she signed remembering the fear spread across Theon's features reverting him into Reek the very physical manifestation of his trauma.

"Now you know why I'm so adamant to find Arya, even if everyone keeps telling me it's hopeless. I intend to never let anyone hurt my family like that again."

Yara could sense a liar and fraud a mile away, nothing got past her. Growing up on the islands forced her with constant run ins from sailors and pirates sailing into port telling of their daring grandeur exploits around the world. The man beside her told nothing of his time in Westeros or beyond the wall. Based on his calm demeanor and stance she could tell everything he said was truth, he wouldn't be in this position earning Sansa's trust if he were dishonest, "you've been in this position before haven't you? Waiting patiently for enemies to arrive for battle."

"More than I'd like."

It came a relief he wasn't a heartless killer who sought glory on the battlefield, he was a ranger after all. Rather he respected the battlefield fully aware in war skill didn't matter, the best he could do is use preparation and opportunity to make his own luck. Yara stepped closer to respond only to be halted by Tristifer breaking through the army lines leaning in his queen's ear, "does your offer still stand? Seems expected company is arriving on schedule."

Jon nodded, "the ally forces are yours to command, take as many soldiers as you need." The lone ranger tightened his wrist straps noticing the salt council depart the opposite direction. "Yara Greyjoy." He called halting her steps staring out to sea, "what's your dream for your people?"

"My desire for the Iron Islands is to build the largest fleet in Ironborn history restoring us to former glory!" The Ironborn roared to life raising their weapons surprising their allies.

"And what do you plan on doing with the largest fleet in Westeros?"

"I plan to do what I always have, to defend the Iron Islands till our dying day. The Iron born shall sail the seas free again!" The Ironborn hollered again even louder than before earning a smirk from Jon.

"During our stay at House Drumm I noticed all your forestry had been cleared around the fortress and was informed every great tree on the Old Wyk are gone, you need lumber, lots of it. We'll discuss a trade afterwards I think you'll approve."

"I look forward to hearing it Jon Snow. Ironborn let's fuck us some unlucky invaders who decided to pay us a visit." A majority of the allied army followed Jon while a smaller force accompanied Yara at her request.

Jon marched through allied soldiers leading notable Ironborn; Harras Harlaw, the Ironmakers, and the Farwynds. Well over thousand soldiers paraded among the beach spreading in formation. "I didn't get a chance to introduce myself earlier, names Harras. Harras Harlaw. My house the Ten Towers resides half a days sail east." The knight said offering a hand.

Jon returned the friendly gesture, "Jon Snow. Haven't heard of Harlaw, are you lord of your house?"

"No I'm the lord of Greygarden, my father Rodrick is the lord, he traveled to King's Landing with the noble houses joining the North. He left his treasured library behind surprisingly, it's all he cares about." Harras faced the ranger meeting his fierce gaze, he would be lying to say his reputation proceeded him.

"For passing on leaving to the capital you're either pretty damn dumb or eager for a battle. I'm going to guess it's the latter based on the sword you're carrying." Jon said.

Harras lifted the black blade out its scabbard, "Ah yes Nightfall, a fine Valyrian sword. It was passed down to House Harlaw from Dalton after he scavenged it off a dead pirate during the rule of Viserys I Targaryen."

"Wish I could say the same," Longclaw gleams emerging out its sheath, "my first lord commander Jeor Mormont passed his ancestral sword down to me before he died. I look forward to fighting you should we make it through this."

"I was about to suggest the same. We've heard stories you're some unkillable god and resurrected by a witch. Any of that true?"

"The latter is true. I'm not immortal, no one is. I will die someday however it will have to wait until I bring my family back."

"That's if you don't die in our duel."

Jon grinned slightly unnerving the knight, "I expected nothing less since you're carrying a sword of that caliber, this day couldn't get any better." Harras couldn't place a finger on the new warden, he was unlike anyone he came across in Westeros.

Harras frowned, "don't mean to shit on your parade. I'm curious why you're really here." He said standing meters from Jon as he settled on a boulder staring past the waves.

"Regardless of your belief I didn't come here because I wanted help finding my cousin. I was willing to do that alone and still am. I'm here because Theon was once told me Yara was the most important person to him. If she was important to him, she's important to me. I'm the one still living, even if it takes some time off getting to Arya who the hell am I to deny a chance to defend my brother's birth home and family?"

"You're more honorable than most, Theon Greyjoy is dead. Most men I know wouldn't bat an eye over the death of their kin, an unrelated one who acted upon crimes against the very family that raised him."

Jon pulled a whetstone beneath his cloak drawing Longclaw sharpening the Valyrian blade. "Dead or not we fight for those who fought for us or we do a disservice to them and their memory. It isn't my place to judge someone's sins, I've had my fair share."

"You have my respect ranger, every time I try convincing myself your just a lord I forget about your years of service beyond the wall, not to mention your a goddamn war—"

"Don't say it."

"Horseshit you're not, at least some people seem to think so. The lady of Winterfell and the northern lords approve, they understood your sacrifices for the Stark family. It's the common people's trust who don't understand the politics trust you need to earn back. I don't understand is why the Queen in the North puts so much faith in you. You're a queenslayer and a criminal to the crown, for all anyone knew you could've lost your mind up there coming back a different person. If it were me I would've left you where you were." Harras couldn't fathom what he looked like far beyond the wall becoming an isolated animal in the wilderness. If he came across the ranger in his natural element up north he would concede the fight.

Jon didn't necessarily disagree, he would've left himself beyond the wall too if it were up to him. He was almost too far gone staying in the winter abyss where hope died faster than sunlight. "This is going to sound like I stole something from some book in your father's library. You probably won't understand; family believes in each other no matter what, it's worth fighting for, always."

Harras smirked in turn, "you're certainly right about one thing. I wouldn't understand a familial concept such as that. The closest people I had growing up were the Greyjoys. It didn't last long after Balon sent his eldest boys into Blackwater Bay sealing their fates. Yara is the closest person to me at the moment, I will fight till my dying breath."

"Are you two involved?"

"No we're cousins, it wouldn't technically be wrong by our standards however their would be turubulence from the Iron lords." Harras leaned on a nearby boulder staring at the usual overcast, "come to think of it we touched each other and did some weird shit as children."

Jon furrowed his brows pinching the bridge of his nose, "forget I said anything." That wasn't the answer he was hoping for.

"Ah you want to marry our queen? If that's the case you'll be short no competition."

Jon grunted, "I need time alone before the battle best prepare your forces."

"Will do ranger." Harras stood skipping a stone across the waves, "what about the northern forces? You don't plan to prepare?"

"We had nothing but prep time on the way over the northern army is ready for anything." Jon said as the lord gave an approving nod leaving him to his musings.

The Iron Islands Pyke fortress had the extreme disadvantage being exposed to land invaders clearly meant for sea defenses. Perhaps there wasn't a need to defend the place for the entire duration despite the easy access because the unpredictable sea conditions and notorious stormy weather. No Westerosi army would attack based off Harras's answer he could rule out a jealous ex lover wanting to take revenge. The culprit had to be someone who was capable of sailing an Armada around Westeros, at least Dorne or even possibly further. "If it was rebelling Ironborn Yara would've alerted her people, there's no telling who the enemy is." He couldn't stand the prospect of fighting an enemy there wasn't any preconceived notions about, his guess was as good as anyones. Jon stood at the waves emerging beneath the surface crashing to the beach pooling around his boots. He shut his eyes tightly releasing a deep sigh.

"_Jon..." _

The ranger snapped his eyes open facing the familiar voice, "you're not really here."

A small smile came over the slightly shorter man's features as the wind blew the golden locks off his face revealing green eyes, "_suppose not, though I think part of me always remained here."_ Theon said coming to stand next to Jon.

Jon glanced at his brother wearily unsure of what he was seeing, "I never really got to say goodbye to any of you. Father, Robb, Lady Stark, Rickon, and you."

Theon's smile faded, "_I don't deserve to be mentioned in the same breath." _He bowed his head repressing fresh tears, "_I failed our family Jon, all I've done—" _

Jon placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "you're a good man Theon, even after everything you chose to come back to fight for us—the Starks. You'll always be one of us to me, I know Sansa feels the same way."

Theon glanced at the horizon letting hot tears slide down his cheeks, he quickly wiped them away unable to show weakness in front of the man he admired, "_Sansa..._" Theon turned away as Jon removed his hand, "_I-I was there when she first arrived back at Winterfell, I gave her away as father's ward." _Theon's tears dampened the sand beneath him. "_She was so beautiful that night...He made me watch the consummation, I was too much a coward to stop it." _

Jon examined his ripped gloves not realizing he shredded them hearing Theon's words. He tossed them off watching them float away in the currents keeping his attention on the far away material, " I think about killing that bastard every night, different way each time. Burning, drowning, strangulation, hanging, stabbing, maiming, decapitation, beating him to death with my fists." Theon stared in awe wiping away the trail of tears never hearing Jon speak like this, "I know none of that would change what he did to you both. Still I would do all that because of what he did even if it didn't fix anything."

"_I'm as responsible for not intervening. I wouldn't have blamed you for killing me at Dragonstone when we reunited, it was all my fault." _

Jon turned to the youngest Greyjoy, "I wasn't going to kill you...I can't thank you enough," Jon met Theon's gaze, "it was a miracle she reached Castle Black, I don't know what would've happened if—"

"_I would've been dead. I swear I would've taken her to the wall even if it got me killed; I knew you'd protect her better than I ever could. I had to—"_

"Come home." Jon crossed his arms glancing at the former Winterfell ward, "you're a Greyjoy and a Stark as I'm a Stark and Targaryen. No matter how much we try we can't run from who we are or where we originate, we'll always be both."

Theon couldn't help smile staring at his iron armor and the wolf pinned to the under cloth. "_You still think I'm wrong but you make the right decisions, Jon more than most in Westeros_." He sighed offering a smirk Jon hadn't witnessed since their time in Winterfell, "_father and Robb would be proud if they were here. I've really always looked up to you. I didn't want your life as a bastard yet I wished to be strong as you Jon."_

Jon was thankful to see his brother's presence, "truthfully I couldn't have gone through what you did and found my way out of the abyss. You don't need to be strong like Robb nor me. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for Theon."

"_How do you know?" _

"Because only the strong choose how they die. I've seen and knew too many people including myself to know any different, especially in this world."

Theon shed a final tear as the brothers watched the rhythmic waves crash the reef, "_remember when we were all kids playing Lords and Ladies. You always wanted to be the knight rescuing the damsel in distress." _

"Aye you and Robb would always choose to be lords, someone had to do it." Jon chuckled turning to Theon, "sometimes I wish we could go back to those days, I was a fool to think they could've lasted forever."

"_I can't thank you enough for comin here. Winterfell is your home, not the Pyke it means everything—" _

"There's no need to say thank you. I would've protected your home and Yara, they're important to you and are to me."

Theon released a laugh staring up at the sun rays beaming through the overcast engulfing the youngest Greyjoy, "_you're the real hero Jon, you've always been." _

Jon shook his head, "I'm not." The ranger glanced at Yara's fleet sailing out to harbor, "If I asked you something would you answer hon—" Jon's eyes widened as the sun disappeared once more consumed by the fog. "Theon...Don't leave brother..." Horns and trumpets sounded signaling the battle's beginning as Jon witnessed ships approaching from the south. The battle for the Iron Islands was set to begin."

The Iron Victory sails displayed a gold kraken sigil on a black a flag proudly driving toward the northern allies gathered on Pyke's shore waiting for their appearance. Exiled Ironborn clamored on deck raising their weapons. The war cries were silent drowned by the waves slamming into the hull and wind whipping the sails.

"Well well, it's as you predicted priest, gray skies, strong winds, and no rain. Perhaps your visions aren't shrouded as others in the red god's faith." Victarion said leaning over the railing examining his armored foes from the mainland, the wizard's prediction didn't foresee this.

"Yee of so little faith, you forget what else I said lord captain? Behind comes the tiger, ahead waits the—"

"Dragon. I recall your words clearly wizard." He said keeping his attention trained on the other ships traveling in his fleet: Fingerdancer, Grief, Sparrowhawk, Lamentation, Karaken's Kiss, and Iron Wing.

"You heard your captain! Once we retake the Pyke castle, we pursue that bitch who calls herself the Salt Queen. Fight till your last breath, kill them all, show no mercy!" Moqorro said running a hand through his white lion mane hair watching the forces descend on the longboats heading ashore. The dozen ships surrounded Pyke's southern shore imploring the same countermeasures as cannon fire flared off the bursting a rowboat to pieces.

The Iron Victory's captain Victarion descended the bridge ship strapping the giant battle axe to his back, "you waste your wind on meaningless words sorcerer, the only good wind is one that fills my sails." He said towering half a foot over the six foot pitch black skinned man adorning yellow and orange flames tattooed across his cheeks and forehead.

"The captain of the Ghiscari Dawn repeated Daenerys Targaryen was dead, my flames tell me differently not long after we entered the Westerosi sea." Victarion kept silent about the supposed unconfirmed visions choosing to believe the dragon queen was slayed and an imposter took her place as the rest of Essos outside Dragon Bay believed. "Still lord captain you lack faith in the red god even after his power saved your hand and guided you safely home." Moqorro's scarlet robes, sleeves, collars, and hems were embroidered with orange satin flames. His dragon staff towered over him sparking a green flame on the ship's deck sending soldiers over the railing at a faster pace. "Show them no mercy, prove your exemplary Ironborn heritage this day!"

"Don't speak of my customs or culture you know little shit about sorcerer. The Drowned God's will comes first no matter if your flames speak truth." Victarion examined his red and black scaled hand layering in cracks resembling a limb dipped in molten lava hardening the layered skin. "You are well and good wizard however blood and steel win wars, magic will do nothing here."

"As you say it is lord captain." Moqorro wouldn't dare insult Victarion's intelligence after a sailor laughed at him for foolishly declaring he'd sail across the Dothraki Sea also known as the 'Great Grass Sea.' It was a pretty sight watching the sailor bludgeoned to a pulp before being strangled brutally helplessly begging others as they watched him die fearing the lord captain's unbridled rage. "There are more than Ironborn here, what do you think of the Northern players?"

"It matters not who awaits, the time in nearly here to take the Salt Throne, nothing more or less." A tan raven haired beauty emerged from the captain's quarters clutching an iron helmet forged resembling a miniature kraken. "There you are woman," Victarion noted Moqorro's disapproving stare as she released a hiss in his direction. "Leave us wizard." She held no tongue thanks to Euron. The woman spoke Ghiscari, often described by foreigners as an 'ugly and unpleasant language.' Victarion placed his hands over hers taking the armor, "do not worry this will be over soon my sweet." Her lips curved into a smile as she hugged him tightly burying her face in his plated chest. His smoky eyes met her brown ones as they studied each other, "I swear by the my god and yours, you will be named a highborn lady at my side after we retake this land." She pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek assisting the helmet placing, "this will be over soon love, keep a watch for the sorcerer." Victarion stepped from the railing propelling the longboat toward the shore.

Victarion held a small smirk behind the helmet relishing the familiar war sounds filling the air. The ragged breathing of his tongueless warriors, the cannon fire crashing through waves breaking ships and castles apart, the scampering of enemy forces. He was a storm invading the serene calm knowing the true war would officially start by spilling first blood. Rowing oars snapped nearly tipping the boat overboard. In one swift movement wave the attacking longboats flipped submerging under the water's murky surface.

The Pyke defensive armies halted staring out at the dozen ships returning the fortress's cannon fire. Jon stood at the forefront turning to the army as the beach's sky darkened, "shields up!" Word spread quickly as allied shields held to the sky as flaming arrows bombarded them clanking off the metal surrounded the army. Cannon fire blasted through the beach forcing the allied forces to leave their position heading in direct conflict to the first emerging sea raiders climbing out the waves running for their position. Jon was the first to break from formation throwing the shield aside leading others to follow. He sidestepped a wild sword swing knocking the grunt unconscious using the white wolf hilt keeping his momentum forward charging headfirst into the hundreds of enemies making their presence known. He slashed through two grunt's blades evading another aiming for his back slicing the man's stomach open before he could get close decorating the sand in blood.

Battle had become second nature to him by now, cutting through hordes of enemies out to take their head off for their own reasons. This felt the same as rest with the exception of the Ironborn silence; no war chants, no shouts of pride or agony, this was too out of the ordinary. Every battle had a core, a purpose. The enemies before him wasn't clear, they held no focus or ulterior goal. They fought bravely for someone they believed in, that much was evident yet it didn't get him any closer to a feeling in his gut. Jon blocked a blade easily flipping an enslaved over his shoulder sending him tumbling into a Stark's soldier's blade.

'_Something's not right.' _ Jon sliced through an Ironborn's chain lodging the rusty hook in his comrade's throat killing instantly. He rolled past a grunt's spear driving Longclaw through his gut before kicking him off the sword. "Keep moving toward the beach!" Jon shouted as the soldiers passed him advancing to the enslaved pouring out the sea.

Jon sprinted west along the beach outpacing the cannon fire smashing the formation apart killing off soldiers by the dozen. He slashed through stragglers breaking through the Stark army as four enslaved blocked his path. The first missed losing as he was sliced open falling to all fours unable to move. Jon leapt off his back rising higher than the others cutting them down effortlessly as they fell clutching the bloody wounds, he missed their vital organs, "keep charging don't stop until they yield." Jon skimmed past his army noticing the enemies absent on the far west side of Pyke.

Erick, Urek, Thomar, and Domar Ironmaker, Glybert, Gyles, Ygon, and Yohn Farwynd, and Harras Harlaw gathered around the Southwest tip of Pyke staring at the lifeless bodies slain across the dunes. "This couldn't have been it...There should have more soldiers attacking the castle's hidden passageway." Erick said planting the large hammer in the sand. "Where's the rest of the bastards?!"

Harras surveyed the distant ships and invading army continue their conquest on the eastern shore attacking the fortress yet there still wasn't the sign he was hoping for. "This battle isn't over we need to focus assisting the island's main defense."

Yohn the youngest resembling his father the most stepped toward the pair of longboats, "if we use these we can commandeer one of these ships to stop the cannons. They're devastating our forces, we need to assist our queen's mission and win this battle!"

"Your son carries a heavy point he speaks truth, taking control of those ships to will change this battle." Erick said nodding in Gylbert's direction, "it seems we have a hero amongst us, the youthful flame burns bright in him." Gylbert and his sons smiled at their youngest proudly recognizing his progress.

Yohn returned his family's stare giving a usual toothy grin pulling the boat's front as the others went to help the young man. The longboat flew up overturning on Yohn pinning him beneath it crushing his sternum and cracking his knuckles snapping them at the joints. Yohn howled in pain as the boat lifted from the sand flying overhead directly into Glybert, Gyles, and Ygon. "Father!" Yohn coughed blood screaming at his deformed hands crawling to safety across the sand. Victarion Greyjoy burst through the waves marching toward the Ironborn lords once under his and Euron's rule now turned traitors.

"What's amatter boy? They didn't tell you in war the part where shit themselves when they die. Pick up your sword and face me." Victarion halted noticing the boy's condition, he might've overdone it. He wanted a worthy fight not broken soldiers barley clinging to life. The others froze witnessing Victarion hoist another rowboat hauling it toward the Ironmakers.

The boat splintered in half landing harmlessly in the dune. Jon raised Longclaw staring down the lord captain draped in black and gold armor remaining focused on his former allies. "Truly I'm honored you lot greet me. I seek a challenge to conquer the Salt Throne.

"You'll never be king of Ironborn, Yara is our Queen!" Dagon yelled gripping his sword as his feet refused to budge. The screams from Yohn increased in volume yet none made any move to help the young lad focusing on the enemy in front of them.

Victarion withdrew the double sided axe raising a shield. "Your queen isn't here, it's no matter I'll cut you rats down in order to rule the Islands." The warrior was pure Ironborn more than any of them displaying his sea raiding heritage arrogantly. "Where is your Ironborn pride? Are you still all standing there because you're scared to face me."

The Iron lords tensed unmoving to help a gasping Yohn who made it safely behind his family. "Don't worry about them." Jon said as Longclaw gained Victarion's undivided attention. "I'll give you more of a fight than you can handle."

Victarion recognized the great wolf symbol anywhere, anyone born in Westeros would notice the family's infamous sigil. The last he heard all the true male born Starks were dead. It didn't matter whoever stood in front of him, they were just another stepping stone to the overall conquest. Jon held a steady stance as Victorian leisurely marched toward him, "If you won't move then I'll seek you out!"

Victarion's battle axe clashed against Longclaw stalemating each other. Jon's weight flew under him as Victarion finished his devastating swing sending Jon crashing into the ship wreckage. The others remained shook at Victarion's display as he rushed Urek and Thomar knocking them aside using his shield slamming his axe pommel into Dagon's gut throwing him in a crumbling mess.

Harras leapt off the dune driving Nightfall against Victarion's shield. He remained unmoved by the fast strikes slamming his shield into Harras kicking the knight away. Victarion unwound the chain hooking it to Harras's armor, "get the fuck over here!" He yanked the younger man to him uppercutting Harras sending the knight crashing into the sand. Erick Ironmaker slammed his war hammer in Victarion's shield as he attempted to redraw his axe stumbling back for the first time. Victarion discarded the shield relieving himself of the weight kicking it against Ugon's chest downing him proceeding to backfist Gyles noticing the man ambush out of his peripheral.

Erick's war sledge strained against unable to hold the axe any longer as he bent a knee wheezing heavily ready to collapse at any moment. Gylbert's spear lunges into Victarion's shoulder forcing him to release the elder. Victarion chopped the spear chucking the remaineder at a charging Jon who evaded it blocking an axe swing sidestepping out of the devastating a second overhead strike that threatened to cut him cleanly in two. The moment the blade hit the ground he slashed through the lord captain's side before clashing against the axe once more being pushed back. Throughout the entire time he traveled North of Yoros and cast between Yellow City and Meereen and seas further south, he received only one significant wound. "A Valyrian sword will do you no good against me Stark!" Victorian boasted pointing directly at Jon raising his axe striking Longclaw unable to move due to Jon's parry turning the lord's momentum against him.

Yohn abruptly stopped his labored breathing laying still in his father's arms. Gylbert shook in anger clutching his youngest tighter, "bastard killed my boy, I'm going to rip his fucking head off." Victarion tossed the damaged plates aside dual wielding the broad sword and axe.

The attacking Iron lords fell unable to put a dent in Victarion's armor leaving Jon and Harras the sole combatants. Victarion pierced Harras's shoulder swinging the axe at Jon's face. The lord captain hadn't a chance to face the undefeated Robb Stark on the battlefield, it was a shame he was killed at a wedding of all places—He fucking hated Westerosi politics, it only attracted leaching rats. Whoever stood in front of him clearly denied the same policies far exceeding the expectations he set upon the ranger. Perhaps he didn't need to fight the former King of the North, the man he faced was far beyond that now. Victarion blocked Jon's piercing stab sending him in the other direction unable to break his stance. "I'm a kraken, unlike the wolf I don't release what my jaws grasp."

Victarion vanquished many enemies killing three hundred soldiers in a single battle laughing as fear overtook them before death. As tenacious as the Stark's strikes were dealing him heavy blows, Victorian snatched Longclaw in his charred hand raising his axe, "it's over Stark, join your family in hell." Victarion halted clutching his left side ripping open spraying blood onto the sand.

Jon tore Longclaw out the lava hand parrying Victarion's weakened axe grip slashing the chest plates putting a stop to his rampage. Victarion clutched at the wound unable to comprehend why his body failed him in his moment of triumph. "I never lost in single combat, how could I lose to you Stark?" The lord captain glanced at the wounded warriors steadily climbing to their feet watching his every move.

"You held out longer than I thought possible." Jon approached keeping Longclaw beside him. "Your left side has a lacerated kidney. I cut too shallow, I wasn't expecting your armor to hold up against Valyrian steel. Contrary to your belief, you defeated yourself. You also had your renal artery sliced, any formidable warrior would've bled out within a few minutes, even myself. The fact you fought at the same speed is an impressive feat, you're the strongest fighter I've faced—"

Victarion screamed sending the Iron lords reeling as he collapsed back onto a knee feeling his left side rip open further rendering him immobile, "So that's how it happened...That was a neat trick Stark." Victarion grasped the fresh blood spilling through the armor. He recalled the ranger's lethal strike coming the moment before he boasted to the Stark a Valyrian steel weapon would prove useless against him. He couldn't help let out a chuckle, "what now Stark? Go on do your duty, give me a warrior's death." Victarion glanced at Longclaw nearing his neck shutting his eyes.

"No," Victarion tore the helmet off hurling it into the dunes before meeting Jon's gaze, "not this time." Jon sheathed Longclaw staring at the fallen Greyjoy reminded of another, "I don't know what events bent your life out of shape making you believe in the Old Ironborn way. My father Ned Stark used to tell me and my brothers the story of your brother Balon's rebellion against King Robert. Your brothers fought proudly that day—"

"Spare me an Ironborn history lesson Stark, I know all too well what happened." The long black hair matted blew in the wind exposing Victarion's tired and scarred face. "I lost two brothers that day Rodrick and Maron...That was different, much different...Robert Baratheon was a hell of a warrior much more fierce a monster and worse king. Balon proved brave earning respect, uniting Ironborn. However he foolishly believed Westeros wouldn't support Robert as a usurper of the Targaryen rule. Even I know everyone hated the mad king, as crazy as he was dumb didn't have the kingsguard support in the end. How much stupider Balon was rebelling, to believe he could defeat Robert at sea." Moving at this point was futile, he wasn't going anywhere unassisted. "I'm sure Eddard Stark told you; him, King Robert, his brother Stannis, Paxter Redwyne, Barriston Selmy, and Tywin Lannister rallied together seizing our islands. Just an excuse for that bastard king to throw another victory tournament in his name to reunite the realms in a superficial manner." The mention of Baratheon and Lannisters brought vengeance to the forefront of his mind. Their father Quellon didn't stand a chance brokering for peace giving into mainland politics, a waste of time for Ironborn. He followed Balon to the end, a true sea raider, proud, fearless, quarrelsome. The man was everything to him until kneeling at the king's feet. "On your sail over you should've noticed the old keeps destruction. After Stannis alongside Paxter Redwyne's vast Arbor Fleet trapped our longships in the Straits of Fair Isle. We were at the Crown's mercy for glory. Stannis returned invading Great Wyk our largest. Barriston secured Shatterstone in the heart of the Old Wyk leaving Pyke for Robert."

"The day of the siege took thousands of lives when the royal forces stormed Lordsport razing everything in sight breaking through the fortress walls."

Victarion grasped at his side releasing a chilled breath frosting the air, "Maron that damn fool was buried under a tower, all the same I wish it were sometimes instead of my brother." The captain shook his head holding in a rare laugh, "I recall Thoros of Myr emerging first overpowering our meager land forces waving that fucking wildfire sword. Jorah Mormont of Bear Island stormed in second causing too much casualties on our end. After swearing fealty to the throne Stannis had advised his brother to behead Balon for treachery. Then something unexpected happened, Robert turned to the other men beside him asking his decision on the matter."

"_Grant mercy on him your grace, no more men need to die." Eddard said humbly tucking his arms beneath the brown wolf furs. _

_Robert snorted turning swiftly to Ned, "he rebelled against the kingdoms, against the crown, against me Ned!" _

_Balon jolted upright nearly standing from his knees surprising his brothers "You cannot call me a traitor Greyjoys don't kneel to a Baratheon." _

"_I smashed your fleet broke your castles and burned your town. Yet here you are with your rebellious family and a head on your shoulders. My wife is going to bitch at me for not putting a spike on your heads displaying you for all to see in the capital." Robert said grinning at the sight of a fearful Greyjoy, nothing gave him more pride seeing a defeated man who didn't have the drive to win wars kneeling for forgiveness. _

_Ned left the Baratheon side approaching Balon standing beside him, "I don't know what would happen if I lost my sons, you lost enough today Balon." _

_Robert grunted waving a hand signaling Balon to rise, "since you kneeled swearing fealty I'll spare your life." Robert hated Greyjoys, he hated Balon, most importantly he hated defiance, there needed to be a way this would never happen again. No usurpers would steal the throne during his reign. One that started decorously, uniting the Seven Kingdoms fighting to make a name for themselves under him after his rebellion. This was a farce rebellion, farce treason, a mere reason to hold another victory festival under his name. "Still I can't trust Ironborn..." Robert placed a hand on his forehead massaging a temple, "to ensure you won't stupidly rebel against the crown again I'm going to kill your true born heir to make sure it won't come to that." With a simple wave a guard marched off to retrieve the boy from the upper castle. _

"_Your grace I beg of you, he's my last born son only the age of eight." _

"_And he's neither a squire nor soldier, I'd have no use for him as a cup bearer and no need for a ward, I plan to spend my time eat, drinking, and fucking." He said earning laughs from the room. _

_Victarion and Euron watched their older brother plead begging the king to spare his son. "Your grace." Ned Stark called silencing the laughs abruptly catching everyone's eye. "If I may make a formal request." _

_Robert grunted suppressing a smile, "not too formal I hope, spit it out Ned." The king didn't appreciate being upstaged by his old friend, he shook the thought of the men respecting honorable Eddard than him." _

_Ned didn't hesitate bowing slightly, "if it's alright with you your grace I'd like to foster Balon's youngest as a ward of Winterfell." _

"_The honorable Warden of the North Eddard Stark fostering a Greyjoy prisoner of war and bastard in his ancestral home—Blashemy." Stannis crossed his arms disapproving of the move, it would be easier to kill the boy and be done with it. Then again he would never kill his child much less harm them, it was a wonder how he held no sympathy for others aside Baratheon. A small smile etched over him standing beside the king ready to be crowned next in line keeping the Iron Throne in their family line. _

"_Very well the boy is yours. The traitorous rebel decides to rise up again, kill him." Robert placed a hand on Stannis's shoulder snatching a wine canteen in the other off a nearby servant chugging greedily leaving beside Stannis. _

_The North Warden approached the Greyjoy family making sure to look each in the eye, "you have my word on my honor as a Stark no harm will come to the boy." _

_Balon frowned pulling out Victarion and Euron's hold, "you swear on the same honor that brought a motherless bastard from the south into Winterfell." _

_Ned remained unmoved by Balon's words, "no matter what happens if you rebel again, your son will be safe, a son shouldn't have to pay for their father's sins." The Greyjoys didn't place mistrust in Starks as they had Baratheon, the wolves always held to their word aside from the recent dishonorable mishap causing division among the ranks, everyone had an opinion of Eddard Stark and most who searched hard enough found their answer—There wasn't any possible way the bastard was his even if he insisted to Robert himself time after time. Most tended to believe the notion he didn't abandon honor choosing to preserve, though none spoke of it. _

"_Lord Stark," Jorah Mormont entered standing beside a sandy blonde eight year old Theon Greyjoy, "Lord Balon's last remaining son."_

"_Father—"_

"_Send him away, I don't need to see the boy who was my son. I shall take another wife and she will boar me another." Balon waved a hand dismissively turning away from the king's forces gathering in the hall. _

"_Father don't let them take me!" _

"_Silence! You're not my son anymore. You're a northern hostage, a Stark nor a Greyjoy. Away from me out with you!" _

_Theon escaped Jorah's hold before Thoros scooped him up before he could reach his family. His frantic green eyes found his families standing on the other side of the hall standing idle, "uncle Euron, uncle Victarion, I don't want to go to the North, I want to be an Ironborn as you are." _

"_Sorry little Theon, your dear old dad lost the war. This is his price to pay for his failure." Euron said standing beside Victarion folding his arms. _

"_Be strong Theon, you're an Ironborn for life. We do not sow." _

_Theon calmed as Ned placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and Thoros released his hold taking a place by Jorah Mormont and Ser Barriston. "I know the North isn't your home however you'll come to see it as yours, I promise it's a fine place to live weather aside. Tell me do you like to shoot arrows and horseback ride?" _

"_Y-yes sir, I've never ridden a horse before." _

_Lord Stark warmly smiled holding in a laugh, "Good good." He lead Theon past the royal guards away from Balon, "I have two sons at home, I trust you'll fit right in." _

"_Think they'll like me?" He asked staring near his feet._

"_You'll be brothers." Ned smiled once more being trailed by Jorah, Thoros of Myr, and Paxter left leaving Ser Barriston behind as he sought an audience with Balon's troublemaking brothers. _

"_You're fortunate Lord Eddard Stark is as honorable as they say." The aging knight boasted the Baratheon black stag Kingsgaurd armor proudly, "I trust you will keep to your rebellions civil for the foreseeable future or I fear the Ironborn will cease existence." _

"W_hat about the dragon girl and her brother? The Targaryens aren't dead, the king doesn't concern himself with them? We'll all cease to exist in the end if they manage to resurrect the dragons." Euron said. _

"_As far as the king is concerned the Targaryens are dead having no allies nor any true place to call home. Tywin Lannister believes they'll be swallowed whole by the rigorous Dothraki Sea in search of an army in the upcoming years." _

_Euron grinned studying the legendary knight who was rumored to stand on even ground and in some ways surpassed the 'Sword of the Morning' Ser Arthur Dayne of House Dawn. "You sound as if you were her advisor kingsgaurd, then again you were knighted by the mad king's father Jaehaerys II Targaryen. I wouldn't mind going over there bedding the bitch myself had we won this rebellion. For now Ironborn stays Ironborn."_

"_You're taking the longships? No use asking about supplies, food, you stripped everything except our name." _

_Barriston stood in front of the brothers gripping the golden sword belt, "your lives are worth something. Your nephew's life means something, so does the standing of the Pyke. If Stannis had it his way this place would be a pile of rubble." Ser Barriston took his helmet from the table preparing to depart snatching an apple, "I'm only here to tell you both to stop your crusades of tomorrow. The crown's best hope is in ten years after you reinforce the Iron Fleet Theon will be returned and build your name through peace." He said tossing the half eaten apple striding toward the remaining forces. _

"_You'd be foolish to think we won't finish what the kingdoms started, "Euron wiped the apple with a sleeve taking a bite, "the kraken will remain in the depths waiting until the right time to strike," Selmy returned marching up to Euron, "who knows in a few years I'll get bored of this shit hole run by a kneeler and go fuck that Targaryen girl across the Narrow Sea." _

_Ser Barriston despised law breakers especially those who willingly went against it albeit arrogantly as Crow Eye did, "you interfere with the crown we won't hesitate killing you." The kingsguard commander wasn't a liar, he didn't have the same foolhearty faith Robert had in Eddard to execute the Greyjoy ward. _

"_Who's going to stop me? You old man?"_

_Barriston smirked hearing the audacity coming out Crow Eye's mouth, "I'd be more than happy to save the king the trouble. I could cut the both of you down before you lot shit yourselves." The knight glanced at the stoic Victarion barley speaking a word to this point, "and you choose peace, not to be some madman's dog." _

"_I could say the same for you Barriston, serving Baratheon and Lannisters will only end two ways," Euron placed a hand on a silent Balon's shoulder, "you'll stay in a fortress much small than this as servants tend to your every need waiting for you to die, or you'll end up taking orders from a Baratheon bastard who can't tell your accomplishments from the paper he wiped his ass with." _

"_The Old Way is dead." Barriston halted lingering outside the doorway facing the Greyjoys. "I guarantee I'll be back personally if you interfere with the realm's business. If I do grow old I'll be content dying in some back alley shit city knowing someone younger, stronger will take my place in killing you." The knight halted halfway out the door glancing at the raider family," then again they don't need to be as good as me to finish you." _

"_He's right." Balon said noticing Euron's angered look after the doors slammed shut, "Ironborn is dead." Balon nearly fell out his chair as Euron flipped a table over irking nearby guards. _

_Euron glared at Balon nostrils flaring shoving Victarion's hand away, "you're wrong brother, long as blood flows through these veins Ironborn will never die. If you die it matters not, I was wrong to follow you." Euron turned to Victorian, "gunna cry about it ya big fuckin baby, choose a side, be a fuckin Ironborn!" Euron swiped a rum bottle stalking down the fortress halls forging his own path. _

"If you knew my father then you know me. He made the peace that day because he believed we didn't have to make the mistakes of our ancestors, that it isn't too late to change. We can change. We can be different..." The Ironborn lords approached them cautiously watching Jon relax further.

Victarion didn't care about peace or resolving things non-violently, it went against the Ironborn customs. However now he truly did know who this Stark was truly. '_Theon.' _The young lad was punished for the sins of his father. Despite being a ruthless conquerer family meant as much to him as the very blood in his veins, "tell me ranger," he spat keeping Jon's attention, "you grew up with my nephew Theon, he was raised as a ward."

Jon nodded, "he was just as much my fathers child as any of us were." He could see the surprise slowly onset to Victarion, "we grew and fought as brothers. Theon wasn't just a Greyjoy, he was also Stark."

"Tell me something, the Bolton bastard who killed his father, the one who captured Theon, Winterfell, and Moat Coalin proclaiming himself Warden of the North...It was you who slayed him?"

Jon shook his head, "I didn't kill him, it wasn't mine to take." The anger was clear and evident for all to see, "for everything he did I want to kill him in every way possible for what he and his family did to mine...What he did to Theon..."

Victarion sighed gripping the axe, "I administer torture not genital mutilation and puppeteering the human mind to slavery...I'm a liberator."

"I've seen worse than you beyond the wall, you nor your people cannibalize for starters. Not to mention you at least have a moral code even if it is flawed, then again no one's perfect." Jon stared past the dunes as the battle sounds became more scarce, "those warriors are from across the Narrow Sea, they follow you loyally to the end, I can't ignore something like that. Though since none of them speak I'm assuming you can tell me why you were absent in Westeros gathering an army in the east."

The younger Greyjoy brother was amused offering a grin, "you answered your own question ranger, this army are freed slaves I was preparing to hand over to Daenerys Targaryen. We became sidetracked beyond Skahazadham battling with Sothorian pirates aiming to take the loot we found out east."

"What did you find?"

Victarion felt a chill run through every fiber, it was only a matter of time he supposed, "we traveled to the ruins of Valyria. I lost a lot of my men scavenging the treacherous land, the area is highly toxic killing most inhabitants and creatures except the Stonemen." The aged captain released a ragged exhale attempting a laugh, "It lost me a lot of resources but I found exactly what I was looking for, A dragon horn able to bind dragons to their will."

Jon stepped closer surprising the spectators, "that explains it even more now," Victarion glared past his long dark bangs at the ranger's sudden shift after receiving the information, "far beyond the wall where men haven't traveled for centuries my group stumbled upon the Winter horn said to bring the wall crashing down at worlds end." The horns must've originated out east as rumors had indicated through the centuries, "it always comes back to the Targaryens in the end." He couldn't fathom the need for their creation in the first place aside from the lust of power and conquest, the two traits which defined the Targaryens since their initial emergence and disappearance.

"The rumors were true then..." Victarion trailed off noticing the losing battle on his side, "well Stark, you're not new to how this works. Gloat your victory over me to Westeros, just grant me a worthy death." Victarion found the Iron Victory off shore recalling the only feeling that gave him joy. Sailing the world oceans conquering and pillaging was all he'd ever known.

Jon offered his hand, "we don't have to kill each other, you've been around the world you know there is a threat that is bigger than any army. Maybe we can work together," Jon furrowed his brows at the sight of Gylbert cradling his son's body to him, "you've killed family it's a crime you deserve to die for, it's what I will die for. You carry warriors under you not soldiers, though I'll admit I wouldn't want to face you on the sea. I'm sparing as many of your men as I can sending them to the wall for service to the Night's Watch." Jon said holding his arm out enough offering Victarion a chance to raise off his knee accepting assistance.

"You offer the wall?" Victarion grinned toothily for the first time in ages, "Ironborn don't serve the Watch." Balon viewed the order as a waste while their father kept their prisoners strictly Ironborn sending only the best warriors and sailors to join the crown's navy. Ironborn we're destined to sail not serve an order in the forsaken north.

"I offer death. The true north is hell, that's where I'm going. Turns out I'm not much for ruling I never wanted a crown, some aren't meant to rule. Yara is, the Iron Islands is in good hands."

Victarion finally dropped the broadsword as he reached out for Jon's hand. Blood splattered across Jon spraying over the sand dune as Harras pulled the dagger out Victarion's nape as his axe fell into the sand. Jon wiped the blood off his face seeing Victarion gasp out blood unable to keep the fatal wound pressurized, "you...huh, should've known. Losing to a Stark isn't a terrible death...Even still, it doesn't matter." Victarion saw the Iron Victory one last time collapsing dead before he hit the sand allowing the lords to release a relieved exhale.

Harras sheathed the curved blade, "you were always dumb as a stump to think you would've never fallen for something trivial, great work Lord Snow—"

Jon snatched his collar, "what the hell was that? It didn't have end like this!" His anger grew as he killed an unassuming enemy who dropped their guard, it wasn't right.

Harras shoved Jon away, "back off Snow! You didn't know the bastard as I did, he deserved a lot worse than what he got, besides based off what I heard you got what the information you wanted." The knight marched past Jon hitting his shoulder, "you came here to help us not your fucking order, next time stay out of my way."

Jon made his way toward the dunes heading east back to the battle heavily favored in their victory. "I'm so sorry." He said placing a hand on Glybert's shoulder leaving the family to grieve over their loss. He understood the lords bowing out of the sea war, they'd done enough as far as he was concerned.

Off the coastline on the Iron Victory Moqorro grimaced slamming the staff on the planks igniting a green flame sparking across the planks. "Lord Victarion and our ground forces are defeated, the plan to capture Pyke from the northern allies was a failure. Then the lord's flames spoke truth, the dragon masquerading as a wolf successfully slain the former lord captain." Moqorro caught the dusky woman holding her firm preventing her from jumping the railing, "where do you think you're going woman?! Lord Victarion is no more! He is dead! There's nothing you can do—Ah you whore!" He threw her to the deck examining the teeth marks chunked in his arm bleeding profusely. Moqorro snatched her hair before she could hiss, "watch yourself woman, lord captain isn't here to protect you anymore, now you're nothing but a traitorous whore who's fulfilled her role."

Tom Tidewood an Ironborn raider made it back to the boat able to escape a duel with the ranger causing havoc on the battlefield. "Our lord is dead, the northern armies are advancing to sea! Their taking most of everyone prisoner under their guise." Moqorro examined the familiar Crow Eye flags in the distance branching to engage Queen Yara's smaller fleet as the remnants of their own held anchored. "We're getting rid of the asset, lord captain's final order it was. There is no need for the cursed thing, either way it's your head or mine if they get their hands on it."

Moqorro pushed off the railing over the dusky woman, "you can't throw it out, it will stay well hidden rest assured." He followed Tom into the ship's hull corridors beside him, "I order you soldier—"

Tom slammed Moqorro into the nearest wall, "you're not in a position to order anything, old fool." He threw the wizard aside kicking a storage door in drawing a dagger approaching the crate's ropes. The commander halted grasping at the staff digging into his exposed throat falling onto the sorcerer. Moqorro pulled the staff tighter placing it under the soldier's chin earning gasps as he kicked wildly boots scraping the wood.

Tom's flailing legs kicked apart the floorboards gripping the staff tighter wheezing air out his constricting lungs. Moqorro's hands bled as he tugged tightly choking the remaining breath out as blood squirt out the serrated jugular as Tom jerked uncontrollably watching blood squirt out his sore neck wound. Moqorro pulled one last time sighing as Tom fell still falling limp. The red wizard kicked the body off walking over to the crate containing their eastern asset. The box shook violently against its chains forcing Moqorro toward he door. Moqorro paused in the doorway noticing Wufle descending the corridor steps coming below deck calling Tom's name.

Wulfe scratched his lone ear, "Tom! Tom! Get your ass on deck we're leaving Tom!" Wulfe opened the busted door slowly surveying Tom's blood trail smearing into the far corner of the dark room. Wulfe wasn't a fool he was appointed leader of the strongest Ironborn warriors aboard Noble Lady, a ship stolen en route to King's Landing taking part in Meereen's second siege. "What did you fucking do?" Wulfe wiped the blood off his fingertips examining its freshness. Wulfe whipped around to the sound of chains rattling against the opposite wall.

A sharp pain hit Wulfe's skull cracking the top of it downing him as he clutched the bleeding wound. "You..." Wulfe turned over as Moqorro stood over him, the staff's dragon dripping his blood. "You're protecting that thing, you only serve yourself wizard, a false servant of an even falser god..." Wulfe spat at Moqorro's sandals, "a false prophet."

Moqorro chuckled, "The Lord of Light Rhollor tells no lies, he's foreseen your death." The dragon head descended knocking the broadsword out Wulfe's grasp cracking his wrist. Moqorro brought the staff down popping an eyeball out its socket swinging again caving Wulfe's forehead in sending teeth flying across the floor.

"Unhand me woman," Longwater Pyke pried the dusky woman's free shoving her away. "Priest where have you been? Where are Tom and Lone Ear? They were with you right, we agreed to meet here." He approached the emerging wizard as he appeared from below deck.

"Nothing to worry about, they're taking care of it as we speak. We must focus on escaping and protecting this ship before—"

"Enough bullshit! Where is Tom and Wulfe?!" The question hung in the air for what felt an eternity, the only movement came from the ship itself.

"You dare disobey your lord captain."

"You're not anything to this ship, you were a deadman when we found you floating in the wreckage that day." Longwater halted drawing his sword as Moqorro stepped in his intended path, "Enough shit, I knew to never trust a fuckin word that comes out your lyin mouth."

The Ironborn bastard swung his sword missing wildly. Moqorro unveiled Wulfe's dagger jamming it into Longwater's neck overpowering him on the nearest wall. Moqorro stabbed through an eye and his neck rapidly bringing Longwater to his knees smashing his head into the wall splattering brains everywhere. Moqorro collapsed sitting next to the body not bothering to wipe the blood masking his face repeating something along the lines of, "the red lords nor his words were false."

The dusky woman held a hand to her chest seeing the foreign Westerosi invaders ascend the ropes climbing up the vessel's starboard. Moqorro clutched dagger raising it toward the first invaders climbing over the railing. He charged full tilt to the enemy raising the dagger high above his head. Jon nonchalantly knocked the blade away bringing an uppercut into Moqorro's gut grabbing onto a hand forcing an interrogation. "Talk, I'm not in a patient mood." Jon held Moqorro's left pinky, "where is the dragon horn?"

Moqorro grinned releasing a laugh, "you must be gravely mistaken, I have no knowledge—" Moqorro shouted in agony as his pinky snapped at the joint.

"Quit wasting my time," Jon glanced at the northern allies commencement of commandeering Iron Victory prepping to sail toward Crow Eyes's fleet. The brutal stabbing of the Ironborn warrior was too suspicious to let the white haired man go. "Show me the horn, move." Moqorro gritted his teeth as the immense pressure increased on another finger. The dusky woman clutched Jon's arm preventing him from descending, "where did you come from?" He missed her presence when he climbed aboard, had she been an assassin it could've spelt trouble. He noticed the fresh bruising and blood on her face. "Wait here." Jon said giving Moqorro a dead leg sending him crumpling to the floor. He scooped the woman up in his arms heading to the longboats preparing to disembark. "Take her to Lordsport, she'll be safe with Lord Botley." The soldier wrestled her grip taking her with the injured and supples.

Harras stood at the helm steering converging with the other ships: Fingerdancer, Lamentation, Sparrowhawk, Grief, Kraken's Kiss, Iron Wing, Warhammer, also captured ships Ghost and Shade. "The crow eye fleet is being flanked by our queen's fleet in a pincer move, should we attack them head on?"

"Yes commander," Harras answered spinning the wheel curving the rotor speeding the blazing vessel into motion after hauling up anchor. The Iron Victory picked up momentum heading into the kraken's den, "prepare to fire from all sides when we ran into their frontline, hop to it we have a war to win here!" He said leaving the wheel to a navigator barking orders along the deck.

Below Jon restrained Moqorro's hands tying him up, "it's in here," Jon noted the bloody corpses hunched in the corner coming to stand in front of the crate.

"No! You don't know what you're doing—"

Jon unlatched the crate sliding its lid off revealing a body squirming under wraps tied in a blanket next to the meter long dragon horn. The ship rocked nearly throwing the pair down, "stay put, don't go anywhere."

"I refuse!"

Jon struck Moqorro knocking him cold tossing him in the crate running up the corridor stairs greeted by smoke filling the air flowing through his vernacular. The silent enemies burst past the embers and smoke ambushing the allies. Jon sliced a charging grunt ducking low evading an arrow. He lifted another silent warrior over his shoulder as Longclaw slashed through foes swinging onto the Victory. Exiled Ironborn and Northern soldiers clashed returning cannon fire at Harras's order as the Crow Eye fleet surrounded the Iron Victory smashing nearby vessels apart obliterating enemies sending them flying out to sea.

The Iron Victory's bow rammed into Silence II, a much larger ship unable to move any further. No screams, grunts, or yells came from the enemy, only unfiltered bloodlust. The warriors bombarded across the fallen spiked plank crashing the ship's front. Chaos erupted across the Iron Island coast as ships smashed into one another sparking the sea battle. Iron Victory's port and starboard sides were supplanted with planks allowing allied forces to spread to enemy vessels unwilling to be cornered and flanked in a single position.

A ferocious battle cry rang out across the ship as a warrior fit in shiny black and red armor leapt from the Silence's bow swinging an axe wildly clearing the allied forces out singlehandedly. Jon and Harras evacuated soldiers to crow eyes ships fighting their way to a clearing out on deck. The incoming enemy wasn't like the last, displaying a completely different presence albeit a familiar one to both. Harras halted closest to the enemy as he decapitated one of his own leaving the vessel empty aside from them on board.

Euron grinned catching a glimpse of the familiar Stark armor, "Queen Slayer!" He yelled holding his arms out unable to contain his glee, "I heard rumors they sent you to the wall for your crime ranger. Now here you are in Stark armor, what makes you believe there is any honor left in you."

Jon stared down Euron tightening the grip on Longclaw turning his knuckles white. He'd only met Theon's uncle once during the Dragonpit summit as the pirate sat beside Cersei Lannister. They'd barley spoken two words to one another having no reason to interact. They'd spoke two words to each other having no reason to interact other than simply being present yet that stood at diametrically opposed ideologies and morals. It was a poorly kept secret the man was as crazed as he was dangerous. "Cousin Euron, you're finally here, now we can finally settle this."

Euron glanced at Harras out his peripheral studying the knight, the once gleeful expression now replaced by a cold calculated look. "Hold steady Harras we'll take him down in tandem." Harras raised Nightfall charging Euron ignoring Jon's protest. Euron blocked Harra's strike with Widow's Wail jamming a dagger through his eye socket piercing the back of his skull. Harras grit his teeth heaving heavily unable to process the trauma collapsing in a pool of blood.

Jon furrowed his brows turning his attention from the deceased Harras finding Euron's grin, "I hate third wheels don't you?"

"He was in on this too? Then I'm assuming he told you when and where Yara's Dorne diplomats were headed."

"Doesn't take brains to figure that one," Euron said draping the Valyrian blade over a shoulder, "he was a waste, don't fret over it. I've been lookin forward to facing you, instead I settled for a one handed disgraced kingsgaurd barley a shell of what he once was."

"Last I heard Jamie Lannister put a sword through you." It was obvious the wizard was responsible for his resurrected healing and the lord captain Victarion's trip to Valyria explained the Valyrian armor he was wearing.

"As you can see I'm very much alive, I've come to take my rightful place at the Salt Throne. My niece has no right to sit on it, I was victorious during our Kingsmoot."

Jon held his ground ignoring the cannon fire bursting the nearby ships apart, "Yara is the rightful ruler, you allied yourself with Cersei Lannister who killed thousands of innocents."

Euron bellowed out a laugh, "and the dragon queen? She killed over a million with that fiery display over King's Landing. She was your aunt after all and you slaughtered her like cattle. You act all self righteous serving the Watch and by the look of it a new queen." Jon remained unhindered awaiting Euron's move, "since I'm not a Targaryen and I ain't into my niece. I could really use a queen to impregnate. Are you a sister fucker too? The last one was tainted, I want this next one to be pure." Jon halted himself nearly losing himself to the anger, this monster would never come close to Winterfell, he would go to hell and back to make sure it never happen. "That tighten you up a bit? At least you're aware enough to not make the same mistake as this cunt." Euron said spitting on the lord of Grey Garden's corpse. "You're not a coward like my disappointment of a nephew, I'll indulge you, killing two queen slayers in my life would to good an honor to pass up."

"I'll finish you off, I'm going to stop you."

"You will die trying ranger."

Widow's Wail struck Longclaw sparking the air backing its owner down as the combatants parried one another's swings using one another using the momentum to fuel their next attacks. Jon matched every movement in spades refusing to break his defensive stance using a hanging guard catching the opponent's blade. Jon held steady at the stairs edge refusing to give another inch. Euron kicked the plates armor sending him skidding across the central deck rotating Longclaw keeping his gaze trained on the enemy above.

Yara led her forces through the fifty ships rear formation. Enemies fell to their swords unaware of the queen's ambush focusing all their attention at the advancing northern allies. Qarl, Skyte, and Uller led the smaller garrisons commandeering Crow Eye ships ramming them into vessel lines pushing ships together constricting the battlefield. "Forward! We fight until our dying breath!" Yara raised her sword earning shouts from the imperial forces as she gripped a rope swinging to the next ship fighting her way through.

Euron charged spinning into a reverse flourish technique as he relentlessly clashed against Longclaw slicing through the corridor continuing their duel. Euron spun around guarding his back with another flourish move parrying Jon's first forward strike. Euron brought Widow's Wail overhead in a hammer strike attempting to break Jon's stance. He used a downward upward spin flourish blocking Longclaw using the clash to propel his strikes. Jon countergrapped Euron's grip on his sword hand exposing Euron's back to him, Widow's Wail caught Longclaw at a crucial time halting Jon's slower overhead swing.

Euron pursued the warden down the hall once more cutting through the wood exchanging sword swings clanged on the central deck after a fierce strike from both. The Silence captain drop kicked Jon sending him to the crashing on planks. Jon waited a moment steadily rising toward his feet shoulder ramming Euron to the ground as he attempted to recover his blade. The pair scrambled for their weapons simultaneously as Jon proved quicker striking first unbelieving Euron blocked his blade in the nick of time.

"My queen!" The Silence II and Iron Victory are still stationary at the formations bow." Qarl said hanging on the ropes zooming the scope lenses shocked at the sight.

"What is it Qarl?" What's happening?" She caught the scope smiling noticing what he'd seen, "we keep on task taking out Euron's cannons are our priority, our northern friend is just fine." The queen's forces tied prisoners of war by the dozen taking note of the allied forces conduct. They sought no loot nor glory in killing, they took pride in their duty to who they were fighting for—the Stark name. "Prepare to board the Sea Bitch on our her port side, drop the sails!"

Euron and Jon held a stalemate unable to break the others sword. Had one of them had a regular sword the fight would've been long over. The two slashed at the same time breaking the hold flying to opposing side of the deck. Euron recovered first leaping off a crate rearing his sword striking Iron Victory's mast as Longclaw fell forward propelling through the wood slicing a large chunk out the mast sending it timbering onto nearby vessels avoiding the Silence II. Jon slipped Nightfall in the unoccupied scabbard jumping onto the mast blocking Euron's slash as he ran up the railing noting the adjacent ship's side unstable condition. They kept even footing over the crackling mast switching to a one handed fighting form as Euron backed Jon down the fallen mast noticing both allied and enemies alike fall into the darkened depths being immediately devoured by the twenty foot great white sharks circling their fleets. Euron sidestepped Longclaw's piercing thrust hopping over the side swipe that would've sent him legless tumbling into the bloody shark pit below.

Northern allies and silencers fell off the ship and mast attempting to escape the vessel catching fire in the hull. Jon held steady blocking Euron's strikes leaping off the high mast landing hard on the ship. The lord captain pursued relentlessly crashing aboard engaging Jon's swings as the large mast crumbled sending calvary plummeting to their deaths. Fire exploded below as arrows caught flames sinking the stern vessel faster. Jon and Euron ran to cover clashing swords as the fiery parade rained on them ravaging the ship. The combatants emerged at the same time reengaging unable to stop from falling to the deck clinging onto the opposite rails. The ship descended faster throwing soldiers off the edge sending them sliding into the shark frenzy. Jon grasped a loose hanging rope snapping it free from the buckle swinging freely high in the air looking for an escape. Euron glanced at the men screaming for help being devoured by the sea beasts. Determined to not share the same fate he followed the ranger yanking on the rope ascending to Jon's level exchanging a clash as the ranger swung off the rope landing on a longboat leaving Euron to his fate.

Euron sheathed Widow's Wail descending the rope landing on the sinking ship. He regained his footing running on the mast leaping atop the lookout post crashing onto the longboat as Jon held on, falling into the water wasn't an option. "Yara will make this place great, you failed your people."

"Says the man who fucked his aunt then killed her after swearing loyalty over the North, you are the failure Snow. You'll fail again and I'll be happy to take your place as warden." Euron said twirling the Widow as he swung nearly slipping as Jon missed a strike reeling in the wild swing matching Euron's intensity riding the newly sunken ship's wake. Euron broke the stalemate first latching onto the stationary ship, while Jon ascended the ropes slashing the crow eyes grunts regrouping with Yara's garrisons.

"Ranger! I have her!" Euron laughed in his nieces ear managing to catch her by surprise. The silencers slaughtered Yara's personal soldiers ripping their tongues out their mouths earning petrified screams from the hardened warriors. "Come on! Prove to me you can save her." Euron gripped the dagger on his hand pulling Yara tighter to him.

Jon drew Nightfall dual wielding alongside Longclaw for the first time slicing mercilessly through grunts decapitating them showing no mercy. Yara snapped her head back smashing Euron's nose loosening his grip as she kicked him sending him stumbling. Yara caught Nightfall in her hand parrying Widows Wail's strike. Jon took out the remaining grunts slashing his way toward Yara blocking Euron's fierce strike in time as he aimed to kill his niece. With a mutual nod the two worked in tandem combating Euron quickly overwhelming him.

Yara kicked Euron as Jon brought an uppercut to his sternum evading a piercing stab. Euron blocked Yara's strike falling to a knee after a slash to the quad. The captain fell raising a hand unable to move, "go on finish it Yara! Give your uncle a kiss!" Yara kicked the back of his head before he could rise again knocking Euron cold. Jon checked on a tongueless soldier witnessing him pass away attempting to speak. Yara dropped the unconscious Euron at Jon's feet taking Widow's Wail off him.

"You didn't kill him..."

Yara smirked at his surprise, "I suppose I have you to thank for that. Everything you've done, it all comes back to family. Besides slitting this bastard's throat is far too kind."

"I'm inclined to agree." Jon sighed, "I'm sure you knew about Harras Harlaw being the rat to Euron here." Jon said nodding toward the captain.

Yara folded her arms, "I wanted to tell you. I didn't even tell my council. Keeping a close eye on him was the only way I could be sure."

"Your reasonings understandable. Why me though?"

The queen chuckled meeting his gaze, "cause he couldn't bullshit you. I'm sure he tried." She wiped at her eye sighing softly.

Jon glanced at her coming to stand shoulder length's distance. He placed a hand on her as she smiled slightly before letting it falter, "you're not alone. Theon was my family and so are you—" Jon wheezed as she crushed him in a hug. He returned it after the shock subsided smiling at the prospect of having another honorary Stark.

"Do you want this sword? I sorta like this one." Yara asked holding out Widow's Wail keeping Nightfall at her side. "You can handle yourself well with two swords."

Jon scratched his neck sheepishly, "that was my first time dual wielding swords in live combat."

"Are you crazy! You could've been killed!" Jon broke out into a laugh as she continued berating him for his reckless stunt. Perhaps having another sister couldn't hurt. Qarl, Skyte, and Uller sailed Yara's ship pulling up next to the Crow Eye ship. Jon hoisted Euron over a shoulder grabbing Yara's wrist catching her attention from her crew.

"What is it Jon?" She asked noticing his averted gaze.

"I need to show you something...It needs to stay between us." It wasn't a question for the queen he was part of their family.

Euron gasped as water poured over his face causing him to shiver shaking the water off him. "You didn't kill me huh? What the hell are you waiting for?" The captain wiped the dry blood from the back of his head still feeling Yara's roundhouse kick. Euron turned to his left meeting Moqorro's gaze as he muffled curses through a cloth. "At least they shut you up." Euron halted as the coffin snapped open and a body thudded on the floor.

"Who is this?" Jon asked standing beside Yara glaring at Euron who laughed recognizing the dragon horn also on the ground. Everything was coming to light and he intended to be apart of it.

"This...This is the real Pyat Pree. It took some time but I finally found the warlock that will lead me to the next dragons." Euron laughed again as Moqorro stared in awe. Jon and Yara exchanged a glance realizing they stumbled onto something much bigger than the Salt Throne and the Iron Islands itself.

—

**XXX**

—

**A/N: Rest assured the next chapter is always in the works unless I say otherwise. For those waiting on the other stories you'll see an update on one of them before the years out. This story will return in the new year. Next will feature Sansa in the Riverlands, Dany will get caught up to current events, meanwhile Jon and Yara decide the next move after the battle of the Iron Islands. **


	8. These Corpses We Bury

In the Riverland's heart stands Riverrun, a strong three sided castle constructed to a tenth the size of Harrenhall, by far the six kingdoms largest castle sitting in ruins unlike the immaculate Tully ancestral house. The great river Tumblestone flows east into Redfork of the trident; Riverrun sits on a spaced junction of two rivers equally branching off to west houses: Fairmaker, Old Stones, Seagard, and The Twins. In the east stands Lord Horroway's town, Saltspan, Maidenpool, and Harranhall ruin. Riverrun's watergate opened on the river running beneath the main castle's underground dungeons allowing supples and weapons directly into their battlements, also serving as an emergency escape route should worse case the trench fill with water intended as defense surrounding Riverrun on three sides making it practically unassailable viewing enemies invading miles away.

The castle's Scarlet Sandstone walls rise sheer from the water, the crenellation gaped walls hold arrow loop openings through fire at attackers, and its towers guard the opposite shores. Riverrun's keep is located inside the fortress itself. A properly garrisoned Riverrun holds supplies for men and their horses for approximately two years. The permanent two hundred enlisted guardsmen wore the fish crest prepared to never forfeit their home again. Over the past few weeks major houses from the north and east arrived welcoming the Ironborn with open arms to their caravan traveling to King's Landing.

In the front land area the fortress grounds are surrounded in Lords' tents, campfires, supply wagons and Westerosi gathered from the north, east, and western coast over the cover of darkness. For a second time in modern history major houses from the continent are meeting for a gathering of solidarity. Northmen, Valeman, Rivermen, and Ironborn joint festivities are spread throughout camp stretching to the south east woodlands. The Blackfish, a legend among those living in Westeros steps on the lowered drawbridge striding to the encampment, anyone born in Riverlands knows the man's impeccable battle record and strategic mind. An aging knight of a different era, there weren't many warhorses left like him in the world—only him. He misses roaming with his older brother Hoster Tully, former Lord Paramount of the Trident, and his nieces and nephew; Catelyn Stark, Lysa Arryn, and Ser Edmure Tully.

"Good evening sir, the lords are all awaiting your appearance." A squire says appearing out the mosh pit crowd trailing the lord.

"Another one, where do they find you lot, and tell me what else is new," Brynden Tully adjusts his gloves placing an arm in front of the young squire preventing his trampling by passing horses and wagons, "you don't watch where you're going son, you'll die before you reach King's Landing, we haven't left camp yet." The elder Tully chuckles as the squire fell in line with his stride.

"Your nephew is already there in your place."

Brynden stops him once more, "you foolin me boy? Tell me honestly."

He bows his head, "no sir he's taken stead as Lord—" Brynden tosses him aside departing faster to the Queen in the North's tent in the central clearing surrounded by soldiers from the other great northern houses; Hornwood, Mason, Dustin Manderly, Mormont, Dustin, Flint, Tatthatt. Among the extinct or non attending houses; Bolton, Umber, Karstark, Glover, and Reed.

Brynden halts turning away from Sansa's tent heading to the festivities facing the camp south east outskirts. Soldiers sprint to the commotion pushing past one another out in the distance. "The champion and contender step up go head on for the price."

A Valeman and Northmen aim the modified crossbows over a hundred yards away to a target brightened by a single lantern hanging above the swinging target giving contestants a beacon to shoot for in the night. Their grip graze the trigger latches as the riverman host raises an arm firing at the drop of it. One misses as the other plunges in a nearby tree nearly killing the nearby judge. "Aye for fuck's sake you couldn't hit the target hoisted on a crate you short Valeman shit cunt!" The spotter yells having fallen to the dirt in a panic.

A Northmen soldier chugs the ale spilling on his belly stumbling toward the vale groups taking their coin, "fuck off you lots! Declan grazed the target, it's the North's victory!" The Northmen crowd rise from their five tables and gathered gamblers waging on the crossbow and archery games.

Brynden whistled silencing them snatching the crossbow from Neil, "are you fuck sticks telling me out of all you hardened soldiers not one can hit a moving target that size from a hundred yards away. Shame on ya!"

"Bet on ya lord!" Landen, Riverrun's unofficial ringleader says rallying the soldiers collecting coin giving a nod to the buy ins. He halts at the shorter man snorting at him, "You're short Wyatt, pay up or get out bloody bastard."

"Charging Ironborn more are ya? Fuckin greedy river scabs." He shoves the gold in whistling and hollering as Brynden took position sticking a foot on the bow yanking the string back securing the metal tipped arrow. He took time aiming taking due diligence gaining precision and sight. The arrow shoots at the moving target missing wide right. A group of soldiers snicker while Brynden reloaded the crossbow undeterred by his miss.

Neil laughs crossing his arms, "lost your touch my lord?"

The crossbow's strikes Neil as he clutches his face. "I'm old." Brynden hides a grin as soldiers bellow laughs at Neil's bloody nose. The shot burst out the chamber piercing the target center earning cheers from Riverrun's warriors.

"Double or nothing my lord! Put coins in you mutts and shut your mouth."

"Where are you going Lord Tully?" Declan asks slinging the crossbow over a shoulder.

"An extra twenty feet for the winnings." He aims the bow a more considerable distance away nailing it same as the previous shot. "Alright that settles it for the time, hand over the coin Landen." He says approaching the exuberant faces seeing him in action.

Neil shoves Landen aside throwing an absurd amount of coin in the archer's helmet, "for the rest of ya, third bets on for two hundred yards!" The spectators clamor in their pockets scrambling to the half filled helmet tossing coin in one after another. There wasn't a chance in hell he's denying the amount of money wagered —One would argue no sane man would. Declan and Neil trail the Riverrun's lord measuring additional space.

"You sure you got this Lord Tully? We could reduce the distance some," the short bald man says keeping his eyes on Brynden's movements, "our finest archers couldn't hit that target fifty closer." Declan arches a brow stepping back as Neil does the same watching Brynden take one glance at the target shooting the arrow high in the night sky.

He tosses the crossbow in Neil's arms marching toward the tent as the crowd witness the arrow pierce the lantern igniting the target in its epicenter consuming the straw in flames. Soldiers roar to life impressed and thrilled at Lord Tully's mastery archery. "My lord your earnings!" Landen shouts to the retreating legend too far gone.

Brynden smirks, the Blackfish was back in action not halting his strides for a moment. It is never about the money or glory. Only proving a point, doing the work that needs doing. His golden years are well behind him, there is none like him anymore, the last of a dying breed. The others are long dead or missing across the world.

"Join in the on the next round Lord Tully."

Brynden takes a glance at the table's serrated blades chunked in the table and spread fingers between the two across the wood. "You both are mad fucking dip shits." He says stepping through the tent as a guard lifts the flap allowing him entrance to the northern alliance meeting. All eyes place on the peppered hair Tully as he ran a hand through his curls taking a seat beside Edmure, his nephew and heir.

Edmure grimaces leaning to his uncle's side, "you going to explain where the hell you've been, everyone's asking when the legendary Blackfish would show. Really uncle? Bedding handmaidens at your age." He says draping an arm on the table facing his lord.

Brynden pours a full wine cup saluting the lord across from him glancing at the ally forces taking three quarters of the queen's tent. "If you don't quit asking me questions by the old gods and the new ones I will backhand you with my ring hand Edmure." He gulps the wine quickly avoiding his nephew's gaze as he shifts in his seat taking his uncle's threat at face value, the last time didn't end well.

Sansa smiles warmly noticing her great uncle relax taking a nearby food tray. "Shall we continue where we left off? Lord Arryn I believe the Eyrie had an announcement regarding foods and supply wagons traveling south tomorrow morning before sunrise."

Robin stands offering the queen a nod, "thank you Lady Stark. As you know Lord Tully is kind enough to allow us use of the river to carry large supply amounts for our houses directly to King's Landing. This will accelerate the trip by more than a few days so by the time we reach the capital our necessities will be met." The Warden of the East turns toward the Ironborn faction, "Lord Drumm, Lord Blacktyde will your houses ensure our supply reach the reserved campsite on the outskirts of the capital."

"It shall be handled Lord Arryn." The younger of two agreed to the terms.

Lord Drumm cleared his throat earning the room's attention, "there isn't any report that came in within the last few hours from the Iron Islands. Our bravest stayed behind to fight whoever had invaded."

Robin places his hands on his sides gliding a loose map across the table glancing at Sansa as she shifts uncomfortably, "you've known me for years Lord Drumm back at capital court."

"Yes your grace, I witnessed the pain you went through at the hands of that cunt Joffrey—"

Sansa put a hand up, "I'm grateful for the concern my lord, it was sometime ago." She holds a hand over a breast taking a steadying breath, "I grew up alongside our warden, you can trust him to defend your home and rightful queen. By the time we reach King's Landing I'm sure they'll send word, trust me my lords, your home and your queen is safe."

Sansa's gaze flickers to Robin's as they glance in opposing directions, "back to the matter at hand we need to stop and supply food rations for the duration of our trip back home from Highgarden's caravan traveling east to the capital, it shouldn't take more than a day and a half—" Robin raises his hands as grumblings increases in volume. I know it isn't the best considering the given circumstances. Our three kingdoms couldn't sustain a caravan of this size especially during the festival. Feeding our people is the number one priority."

"Should've asked me I would've handled the problem. Rations are plentiful in my castle, we can feed our people for two years held up," Brynden grit his teeth pushing the wine away, "the Valeman weren't lying when they said the red wine is shit, funny it used to be better."

"Lord Tully try Arbor Gold, much better than the Reach's horse piss they pass as wine." Lord Manderly says handing Brynden the bottle.

"Thank you Lord Manderly its been awhile since I've received such exquisite wine, Dorne and Stormlands have the luxury living near King's Landing."

"Great uncle Brynden—"

Brynden is all smiles sipping the Gold Arbor wine, "I'm old your grace, not useless, uncle is fine."

"Uncle Brynden, you've given us full reign of Riverrun and stocked our people with proper southern attire. To ask even more from you would be too much on my end."

"It's no trouble at all your grace, feel free to ask if you need something else." Brynden smirks sipping the goblet content to be reunited with his extended family.

"That concludes all matters my lords if there is any concerns feel free to ask." The lords pile out the tent carrying maps to the capital should a group stray from their path.

The Tullys stay behind noticing the white direwolf asleep in the corner near a large ham bone "I hope you know that mutt isn't a pet dear niece."

Brynden hugs Sansa tightly rocking her gently.

"How are you uncle?"

"Managing," he offers holding Sansa's shoulders taking a look at the young woman he hadn't known as a girl. She's been through too much for her age, yet she resembles her mother in every way. "You're as beautiful as if not more than your mother, it's good to see you." He also wishes to see Arya, he can imagine she resembles her aunt and father in many ways sharing Ned's fierce spirit unwilling to compromise even in the face of death.

Sansa greets Edmure to which he returns shyly, "beat it." Brynden nods toward the entrance as Edmure's bows to Sansa exiting without argument. Brynden exhales shaking his head, "forgive your uncle, can't imagine it was easy dealing with him in my absence."

"Please uncle, Edmure is harmless, he's kind, though not the best leader." Sansa throws a hand over her mouth suppressing a chuckle.

Brynden smirks, "you seem well Sansa, that's good. It has to do with Winterfell's bastard returning doesn't it?"

"He's not a bastard uncle, he's aunt Lyanna's son, a Stark." Sansa says taking a seat on the lounge.

"Also a Targaryen." Brynden sits across the queen in the North, "suppose it doesn't matter, I'm glad you're cooperating as siblings should in an unsure time. I know how it was before you left for King's Landing."

"It's in the past now, I'm sure Jon would say the same."

Brynden musters a solemn smile, "you're not worried about the warden...Something else is troubling you."

Sansa fiddles her hands feeling a shakiness overcome, "Jon can take care of himself, he was gone beyond the wall for months when I had no idea where he was, he'll be fine. Sansa's gaze finds her hands unable to look at her uncle, "I had a chance to keep Arya in Westeros, I should've done more to convince her to stay. The more I'm sure there would've been nothing I could say to change her mind to reside in Winterfell."

Lord Tully sits on the adjacent cushion resting a steady hand on her shoulder, "ah yes, Ayra would be stubborn as your girl's father was, I'm sure she's fine Sansa. You trust Lyanna's son, from what I've heard he's a war hero, he's got a good chance at finding her." Brynden smiles seeing Cat all over again, "I haven't seen you since you were a child, now you're a grown woman resembling your mother at this age." Brynden sighs removing his hand, "it won't mean much but now until the dying day I'm going to do everything I can to assist you. I wasn't there when we were under siege by the Lannisters when you needed me most. It won't happen again your grace I swear it." Sansa wraps arms around Brynden glad to have a proper conversation after years hearing stories wondering what The Blackfish was really like.

Handmaidens enter the tent signaling his exit. "Well," the Blackfish offers Sansa a hand up," don't let an old man like me bother you." He strolls to the table taking the Arbor wine, "do not worry Sansa," he calls halting her entrance to her private quarters, "I'm sure your cousin will bring Arya back, if not you can count on me to try a hand at finding her."

Sansa smiles graciously, "thank you great uncle, goodnight."

Brynden bows replacing the half full bottle with an unopened one earning a growl out the waking direwolf. He smirks tossing a half eaten turkey leg on the mat shutting Ghost up. "Such a pup over a good meal, smart mutt." Brynden uncorks the bottle sipping as he exits the tent finding camp wilder than before. He quickly evades a thrown punch as it connects on a wasted soldier knocking him into a dazed snore. The Blackfish steps over soldiers crashing onto to grass passing incoherent stumbling soldiers rambling horeshit laughing hysterically as others vomit ale uncontrollably. "Fucking idiots every single one of em." Take some time off and all hell breaks loose, the countries are in parlay. Then again maybe he's wound too tight; it isn't any fault of his, the man is a product of his environment. Growing up in the Riverlands the idea of unifying would've gotten a lord killed yapping that nonsense. Perhaps Westeros is headed for brighter days. It wasn't too long ago he didn't think he'd live to see this day—There is someone he'd never get to thank for sparing his life.

_Jamie Lannister holds Widow's Wail, his late son Joffrey's sword melted down and reforged from the Stark House's ancestral blade, Ice. The straight Valyrian blade can carve through a small army without much effort. He can't help pondering what the sword would feel like in his right hand, if it were still flesh. Instead a gold stump weighing down his arm throwing his core balance off, something he took pride maintaining over the years. Fighting with one hand is a death sentence, it's only a matter of when. _

_It's common knowledge in Westeros Jamie Lannister didn't need a Valyrian sword rising through the ranks of Knighthood and commander of the Kingsgaurd. He often says, "it's a waste, having a Valyrian sword is useless against soldiers who wield ordinary steel. Its like fighting against dagger-wielding warriors, when I fight I want it to be fair from the start so they know no matter if they trained every hour of everyday for the rest of their lives, they would still end up dead at my feet." All that is behind him now. He needs the Valyrian steel to be on par with fierce warriors roaming the world. The days he wishes to go back to are long gone. _

"_Ser Jamie we found the Blackfish, Lord Tully is defusing to surrender, he wants a fight to the death." A Lannister soldier leads Jamie through the castle halls to the commander and his guards backing down Brynden Tully against a wall. _

_Jamie pushes aside the guards standing against the legend himself, "leave us, await my orders in the grand hall." _

_Brynden smirks, "you head to finish me off? You wanted to siege my castle, relocate my people, set up a war council deciding the fate of my nephew Edmure. Should've kept the guards, I wouldn't want my victory to come easy against a cripple." _

_Jamie bows his head sighing, he deserves that and a whole lot more. "I'm not here to fight." He says as Brynden sheaths his sword. _

"_What the fuck are you here for then Kingslayer?" The silence is telling, he guesses right away, "you're here cause of that knight serving my great niece Brienne of Tarth. Since when has Jamie Lannister ever cared about anything other than his pride and his sister." _

_Jamie's jaw clenches tightly exhaling, "it's not of your concern my relationship to her," he took another breath, "what did she tell you?" _

"_My niece Sansa Stark requested aid in a battle against Ramsay Bolton. She's amassing an army to retake Winterfell under her family name."_

"_An army of what? Wildlings and a few meager northern houses." _

"_The Vale is at her command." _

"_The Vale?!" Jamie silences his stupor as he mulls it over recalling Littlefinger's influence over the young girl taken out of his brother Tyrion's marriage vanishing without a trace after Joffrey's death to the chagrin of Cersei, something that made his very soul bleed. Sansa Stark, Cersei and the Mockingbird's pupil. "She is sending the those Northmen and Wildlings to death as an attack run and flank the Bolton army when they surround the allies." _

_Brynden is not easily impressed, Tywin's eldest son is well versed and studied in Westerosi battle tactics. "Its a simple strategy enough, Bolton's used it for years. This Bolton bastard is no different from his father." _

"_He's worse, far worse than expected." Jamie met Brynden's gaze, "is it me or is the world getting a lot worse than we started out? Whatever happened to common fucking decency? I'll be the first to admit I'm going to burn in hell every person I killed...But this, young men flaying enemies, killing their own fathers and brothers, others wanting to burn the world down cutting out tongues to gloat about it forever about it, a Targaryen with three matured dragons. Where does that leave us? The last decent cultured men in Westeros." _

_He doesn't disagree, the world isn't getting smaller, the familiar faces they'd once known are gone leaving them the sole torch bearers to carry on their legacy and memory. "You know you're the last person to talk about common decency, you're a piece of shit Kingslayer." Jamie nods accepting the statement, "you're different, you want to regain honor, it's too late for that though we can always try to reclaim it. I wish I could tell you you're one the last cultured men in Westeros," Brynden pats Jamie's shoulder plate, "you Kingslayer are not one of those men. No matter what happens tonight and all the night to come you'll go running back to Cersei betraying your oath, your family name, and yourself, thats who you are Jamie Lannister, the man with no honor." _

"_You're right about one thing, I'll do anything to get back to Cersei even killing you if it came to it." Jamie tightens the golden hand adjusting the leather wrist straps, "I'll send word at King's Landing stay put until then," Jamie holds a hand up preventing Lord Tully from speaking, "you're to stay here not interfere in the North. That happens we're retaking the castle and we'll kill you or starve out your forces." _

_Brynden smirks shaking his head gripping the specially crafted leather Tully sword belt, "that's you alright Kingslayer, what do you expect me to do then?" _

"_Take your men underground and don't come out until morning. Two guards are going to come find me after coming here, you better be gone by then." _

_Two Lannister guards approach their commander standing in the crenelate wall center, "Ser Jamie, the Blackfish is dead, went down fighting." Jamie turns nodding to the Lannister guards dismissing them to the drawbridge, it is time to leave. Back to Cersei. Only to Cersei. Forever Cersei. _

"Lord Tully! Lord Tully!" Edmure yells catching his father's strides hunching over.

"Its you, whatdya want?" He asks sipping the Arbor Gold holding in a laugh at the Ironborn cutting off a finger using the serrated knife from earlier. He told them they were crazy fuckheads.

"Thieving stragglers were sighted not too far from here raiding villages south, less than an hours ride, I fear our messenger didn't make it, saw the a signal beacon light from the sept tower." Edmure says placing his hands on his sides wincing as the other Ironborn cauterized the wounded man's limb earning hollers and raised cups."

Brynden places a hand on Edmure's shoulder, "then let's not waste time, gather fifteen men, meet me at the southern maple gates. "Edmure is off doing as instructed as Brynden storms through camp in search of someone.

Robin runs into Brynden unaware he's standing in the Blackfish's path. "Apologies Lord Tully I wasn't minding where I was—"

Brynden waves him off, "save it, you there with the winged helmet, what's your name young Ser?"

"Harrold, Harrold Hardyng, Vale's first shield." The knight's look differs from his battle weeks earlier with the North Warden. The clean shave bow replaced by a beard, his hair grew wilder due the trip south.

"Right you're being sworn in the Kingsgaurd to act a guard for my great nephew. I'm going to need to witness your skill out in the field, I can't imagine you'd do much with a mere shield. Come on son, keep up I work quickly." He says leaving the taller knight behind.

"I'll return shortly Lord Arynn," Harrold calls trailing the Blackfish through the rowdy camp side stepping snoring soldiers and crowds shoving bodies into one another around bonfires and tents.

"You got a family Harrold?" Brynden asks ducking underneath logs of cedar by two builders.

"Yes sir I do," Harrold places a hand on the shield draped on his back, "I have a wife and son waiting in Gulltown, got another on the way. I didn't want to risk settling her in the capital while she's a couple months from birth."

"Noble cause, though not unique," Brynden shoves a puking grunts out his path, "if you do intend on keeping em' safe being a Kingsguard is a way to do it even if you won't see them much."

"I'm well aware of my decisions sacrifice Lord Tully. Who're we looking for?" He questions watching a soldier trip over a tree root chasing a laughing whore in a red silky sheet clinging the fabric to her curves.

"Helena!" Brynden calls as another woman laughs running through camp, "where did that broad run off to—" Brynden lifts a nearby tent flap. Red head Helena throws the covers back revealing a breast resting it at her hip. "Who's with you?" A brunette and raven hair beauty appear beneath the furs drawing a smirk from the elder man, "carry on soldier," he says dragging Harrold away out of sight line as the flaps close.

"Why not these men Lord Tully?" Harrold asks. Far as he's concerned, they had armor, swords, and are soldiers trained for combat, even drunk taking out bandits ransacking an area.

Brynden snorts, "these lot will shit themselves running their own sword through belly before they jump on a horse."

"Point taken." Harrold adds witnessing a group laugh as a drunk soldier rolls with the pigs in mud after catching fire, these men are slaughter bait.

Fifteen Riverland soldiers await their lords arrival at the southern gate prepping horse saddles, "there you are uncle where have you—"

"Edmure," Brynden backhands a palm sending his nephew scrambling to fetch their horses, he is learning to take orders well, a steep learning curve leading the Riverlands. "I hope that shield can kill people as well as it draws attention."

The Vale knight smile proudly every place he visits everyone has a comment about the shield placed on his back. It is more than a steel physical weapon, the shield represents the ideals instilled in him in the Vale's civil wars for mountain territory. He didn't desire to kill, but he would if it were cane to it as everyone else. Unlike the wars North beyond the wall and the successfully integrated Northern mountain clans. His country has an epidemic of mountain fighters disgruntled at the lack of inclusion in society. For their low status they were stepped on and killed rather than reintegrated a far easier yet left him questioning his morale and ethics more than usual. The shield is a greater than him, representing a symbol that anyone can be more than they believe they're told. He was just a scrawny kid unfit to be a knight relating more to a jester, now he stands by the legendary Blackfish and is being sworn in to guard a king. "It will get the job done, just tell me where I need to be." Harrold steadies his horse grouping with the Rivermen.

"Spoken like a true knight of Westeros. You'll be a fine Kingsgaurd should you don't deny tonight." Brynden says handing fellow soldiers torches.

"I'm honored to hear the Blackfish say that. It will be a greater honor serving your great nephew in King's Landing." The soldiers give chase to the fleeing Lord Tully driving his horse into darkness lighting a path through the forest.

Sansa sinks in the tub submerging herself up to her nose releasing an exhale allowing heated water to encompass her soreness and aches from the long trip south. She declined Brynden and Edmure's invitation to stay inside Riverrun's fortress. It isn't the same as sleeping under Winterfell's familiar roof. The water surrounds her neck keeping her straightened hair draped down the back. Sansa emerges slowly exposing neck scars given to her by Ramsay Bolton. The scars trace to her chest to the right side of her breast down to her ribcage. The physical pain subsided after she and Theon left the fortress behind heading North however emotional scars remain carved into her porcelain skin using bare teeth. The more she washes the more they cling to her skin—She hates her body. More she hates the person who did it. The outside world sees her untouched face, rosy red lips, fiery hair, and Tully blue eyes able to disarm the most of dishonest people into truth tellers. They didn't see the hideous form of pain inflicted along her body. His death didn't satisfy her as she thought but she'd do it again changing nothing.

Handmaidens emerge chuckling in their palms assisting their lady out of the tub covering her. "Was your bath enjoyable my lady? You outta be exhausted from the weeks long trip."

Sansa smiles using the other to balance stepping out the tub into warm towels, "I'll be fine ladies, I will sleep when we reach King's Landing."

"I cannot wait to go to King's Landing, I hear..." Ghost drops the bone perking his ears at a distant noise. The direwolf rises trotting outside the tent brushing past soldiers leaving camp following a distant noise.

Sansa half dressed emerges in a night garment calling for Ghost receiving silence. She signals her handmaidens to stop as she calls for him again stepping into the main tent area near Ghost's resting spot. "He'll return soon I'm sure of it my lady."

"He's never strayed from me." Sansa throws on furs fleeing the tent in pursuit of Ghost. She runs reaching the distant tree line tripping over a rock scraping a knee. Ghost's distant barks grow near over the upcoming hillock.

Robin paces back and forth speaking lowly to himself shaking his head folding his arms sighing heavily leaning on a tent canvas, "no, no stupid stupid," he places his hands at his sides pacing once more clearing his throat, "I didn't mean to intrude my lady, Sansa—" He slaps just forehead, halting his steps pinching the bridge of his nose, now he just sounds a fool even he knows that.

Lord Royce and Sansa's handmaidens appear through the soldiers, "Lord Arryn there's a urgent situation at hand—"

"What situation Lord Royce?"

"The queen ran off into the east forest, we lost her after that." The maidens hung onto Yohn as Robin sets off east.

"Come with me Lord Royce, we won't rest until we find Lady Sansa." Robin whistles corralling the nearest man, "get off your drunken asses the queen is missing from her tent." Soldiers converse unsure of the situation at hand.

Yohn shoves apart a large group gathering at the shooting range, "hold your fire you drunken fool," Yohn snatches the crossbow slinging it on a shoulder whistling to silence the gathered forces stumbling over each other. "The queen sets off in a direction gathering any and all weapons we will not rest until she's back at camp." Yohn says yanking a torch out a soldiers hand pointing east, "follow Lord Arryn!" The armies spread through the forest trailing Robin and Yohn cutting their way through forest branches blocking their path forward. Northern lords shout their queen's name desperately hoping to receive an answer back, they will be executed by the warden if something happens to her.

"Lady Sansa!"

"Lady Stark!"

Sansa is close, she can hear Ghost's low growls and distant howls echo further away closer than a few minutes prior. She steps over an elongated tree trunk descending into the grove avoiding wild thorne berry patches, "where are you Ghost?" She asks softly holding a hand to her chest. Sansa holds in a scream tackled playfully by the white direwolf, "there you are..." she hugs Ghost tightly, "don't scare me like that, why did you run off?" Ghost turns standing in front of Sansa, "Ghost..." Gray wolves surround them as he growls scaring some off. The search party closes in halting at the hillock edge. "Lady Sansa are you alright? Are you hurt?" Robin asks making his way down signaling archers to take aim at wolves.

"Wait Lord Robin don't!" Sansa holds a hand out halting the attack. The search party stare in awe as Ghost and Nymeria circle one another meeting together.

"What is it Lady Sansa?"

Sansa can't help shedding a tear, "they're siblings." Nymeria releases a great howl running into the clearing with her pack trailing closely. Sansa crawls over to Ghost holding him, "Ghost don't leave, stay with me." Ghost glances in the howl's direction turning to Sansa a final time running after the pack leaving her stunned at the soldiers surrounds her pursing the wolves.

Sansa's handmaidens are the first ones to her side, "are you alright my lady?"

"You must be freezing?" The girls throw extra furs on their queen rubbing her shoulders, "lets get you back to the tent your grace."

Robin descends the hill's other side coming to stand beside the maidens, "Sansa, what was that? Ghost doesn't take off like this does he?"

"I don't know...Ghost hasn't left my side like that before."

"Already have a tracker group ready we'll take horses and hounds to follow their trail."

"It's not use, Ghost isn't going to be found. Jon warned me this could happen, he's a wild direwolf not a pet."

Robin nods, "then he'll be better served in the wilderness, the capital is no place for a direwolf, I'm sure Ghost will return to you on the way up North. I am just glad your safe Sansa, sleep well." Robin watches her go regrouping with Lord Royce.

"Should we continue on Lord Arryn?"

"No need Lord Royce, Ghost is on his path and we're on ours. Something tells me even he's strays from his owner from time to time, he really isn't a pet at heart—Wish we had direwolves in the Vale."

"That I am vehemently disagreeing with you on Lord Arryn." He wraps an arm around the lord whistling to the Vale soldiers to retreat.

Brynden, Harrold, Edmure and the Rivermen descend their horses walking to the nearest home noticing blood smeared across the broken door, leading to a shambled interior, "it's too dim, quiet, eerie. The invaders could've possibly fled by now uncle." Edmure says walking around the other side examining the rowed houses lined on the paved road. This is a celebratory time in Westeros people should be living as if they wouldn't survive the night, he guaranteed it is happening everywhere in Westeros, even in the Twins, home of the Freys where his pregnant wife resides.

"One way to find out." The Rivermen spread out among the village looking for any sign of life. Every house holds the same, completely devoid of life.

Edmure covers his nose preventing himself from inhaling puking upon seeing shredded bodies laying motionless on the floor. Using his blade he lifts a bloodied cloth finding a severed arm and an overturned table as he smears it investigating into the nearby house. The blood is fresh and sticks between his fingertips as he wipes it. He covers his nose as the smell consumes him once more, "by the gods what could've done this? There hasn't been a wolf invasion in a town for decades, we killed off most of em', they're too resourceful to execute something like this." The wounds are precise but sloppy, it killed for pleasure not a meal. A loud scream forces Edmure into a dash to his uncle's voice drawing nearer.

"Hand me your canteen." Brynden says holding the unconscious woman in his arms.

"What? What?" Edmure heaves unable to look at her gaping flesh wound Harrold kneels holding a water jug to her dry lips.

"M-..." Harrold leans closer unable to hear the brunette clearly, "M-Monsters...They're here..."She collapses into Brynden as he lays her drawing a sword out his scabbard, "spread out keep your backs to the road, yell at the first sign." The elder warhorse marches off to the cemetery at the edge of the village.

Edmure bumps into Harrold trailing the Vale knight halting as he raises a hand, "don't move," Harrold grabs the shield signaling Edmure to follow into the sept lit by a lantern on the second floor. The two halt hearing creaking originating above their position.

Brynden grabs a nearby lantern off a supply shed containing burial tools glancing over. The graveyard is empty, completely devoid of life, half dug graves, displaying wooden caskets. On second viewing its apparent the makeshift shovel covered in a thin dirt layer. "They weren't burying their folk, they were diggin em' up." The Blackfish turns shining the light at a fading shadow on the other side of the small homestead.

He steps though the house's other side letting the lantern glow guide him through the darkness. Brynden glances over the turned table finding carnage and guts decorating the floor. He smells the foul odor long before entering; rotting eggs, vile shit, an overwhelming blood aroma so thick in the air it filled the senses full of iron—This village reeks death. Lord Tully kneels checking claw marks scratched into the floorboards, too big for a direwolf, this is something fiercer, foreign. The shadow hovers outside the house running a circle around Brynden disappearing into the night.

"Lord Tully!" Brynden checks his surroundings finding nothing rushing to the soldiers aid piling several bloodied corpses gutted head to toe same as the others. "Some of these aren't locals, the reports from our scout was true...A robbery was in progress by these masked bastards." The soldier removes a knapsack revealing a half chewed off face.

"For fucks sake cover it." Brynden says placing his hands at his sides. "This is strange, nothing about the situation adds up."

"I know what you mean me lord." He scratches his head, "what in the sixes could've done this?"

"Nothing, finish collecting the bodies with the others we'll—"

Edmure's screams brings the calvary rushing to the sept, "a red fox scurries across their sight vanishing in the night. "Edmure I swear by the old gods if that was your screaming." Brynden says jabbing a finger at his frantic nephew.

Harrold emerges holding a child's body as the hand clenches a stuffed toy, "whatever was here isn't here now, we should bury the bodies Lord Tully."

Brynden nods turning to his garrison, "gather the corpses bring em' to the square. Edmure fetch the horses, we'll bury them alongside the river, not in this place." He regards this place as cursed, evil spirits roam every shadowy corner, still this is a vacation compared to Harrenhall. '_I don't like this feeling, in battle the enemy make presence felt at the outset. Whatever is or was here, is fucking with us.' _Brynden scans Edmure's movement to the tree line slipping deeper in the woodland spotting a shadow lurking.

"Check the barn, probably got livestock we can haul to camp." An older Riverman soldier drops a corpse on top of two others clearing the nearby house. "Hurry back lad best not keep ya lord waiting!"

The younger soldier strides to the half hinged barn door slamming against another in conjunction with fast winds rolling through, "what the hell? Not wolves." The lantern illuminates horse, cow, and goat carcasses strung decorating every square foot. There isn't any doubt whatever slaughtered the citizens and thieves fed off livestock hiding in the barn as everyone slept the previous night. "I'll let me lord and the others know of this." He backs away hearing meat and bones crunching loudly inside a boxed stable. The solider carries his blade to the tarp flipping it over shouting at a golden mane lion gnawing at a corpse roaring at the intrusion."

Brynden halts as screams consume the area as the shadow darts from Edmure's blindside. "Ed rally the horses!" He shouts sheathing his sword pushing aside brush pursuing the demon through the woods leaving his nephew to corral fleeing horses." The lion outpaces the aging Blackfish pouncing a soldier biting into his neck dragging him along the dirt as his torch catches a shack on fire illuminating the village releasing smoke in the night sky.

Brynden places a forearm on a tree heaving heavily, running in big fucking armor is a real problem in the open field. The soldiers appear down the path chasing after the fleeing lion. A lone solider turns falling over expecting death. He peaks an eye open feeling around making sure he is still in one piece. The soldier gapes at the falcon shield taming the second lion. "Go help your comrades out I'll handle this overgrown cat." The soldier slips away converging with the others at the barn. Brynden slashes at the lion missing due to its reflexes.

Riverrmen scamper and weave avoiding the demon pouncing on the last man tearing into his neck spraying blood on the grass. Brynden keeps a sight on the lion as he snatches a torch from a near solider keeping distance from the swords ready to pounce at a moments notice. burn the tall grass, keep them at bay with fire!" Hearing their lord's words takes fear out their hearts—-If he's willing to die this night, as are they.

Dry grass ignites creating a fire blockade forcing the lions to pace back and forth unnerving the group. "You trust me Lord Tully?" Harrold asks holding the falcon shield protectively at the helm. Edmure screams holding onto his runaway horse as the animals scatter fleeing present danger. The Vale's shield uses Edmure's distraction leaping out the fire pursued by the roaring lions into the two story sept narrowly avoiding the demon claws splitting apart the rotting wood forcing their way inside. "Don't stand there, seal the sept, those pussycats ain't leaving this town alive."

The rivermen board the exits using hilts hammering boards preventing an escape as they threw in torches burning the sept fueled from dry grass. Flaming wood crashes forcing the group back as the building burns, smoke ascends in the atmosphere. Brynden and the others watch in silence as Edmure rides keeping anxious horses in his grasp. Harrold dives out the top window sill knocking the bell of its perch using his shield's momentum rolling onto his feet. A flaming lion crashes through the second story slashing a soldier's throat open. They draw too late seeing another gutted another cracking his skull between its jaws as the third approaches behind knocked over before he could pierce busting his head wide open over sharp rocks. Riverman quickly stab the burning lion killing swiftly turning to the other lion descending the stairs as the fire level collapses dropping more wood in the dirt. Harrold sprints to the circling lion shield ramming a side window sending the beast flying back in the flames.

"Its stopped moving, Harrold slain the beast." A solider says ripping off the loose board poking the motionless beast's leg. He steps back waving the others to his side of the sept. "Wait till we tell the whole camp bout this," he shakes his head in disbelief, "they're not going to believe—" The lion pounces on him shredding his back spraying blood on the ground as he grips the grass. The group halt realizing it's too late as the golden feline emerges out the shadows illuminating its bloody mane.

"What do we do?" Edmure asks. Less than half remain and they're unequipped to deal with lions. He couldn't recall there being a living prime lion in Westeros that isn't taxidermy.

"Can you use that ridiculous shield of yours one last time, I need you to draw its attention."

"Consider it done Lord Tully." Harrold presents himself to the lion staring in its soulless gaze. This isn't an animal accustomed to humans. Bears, wolves, and mountain cats recognize a danger from humans over thousands of years. Lions don't need to adopt to humans, unlike the others, a lion considers itself an apex predator standing atop nature's food chain. Fearless, a terrifying species, if it ever came to Westeros permanently successfully adopting the environment. Harrold glances at the lion turning his back to the animal walking the opposite direction. The lion charges leaps at Harrold as he unsheathes his shield parrying the beast's attack, flipping the five hundred pound animal into Edmure and the others' rope net for hunting animals outside camp. The lion roars falling on its back pouncing to kill its captors. Brynden pierces the lion's heart halting its ambush, the guttural roar dies down as it lands motionless. The eight remaining soldiers glance at the animal as one steps up kicking it jumping away at a twitch.

"It's dead soldier, lets gather the dead and bury em, our nights far from finished." Brynden says marching in a direction leaving others to witness the sept burning to the ground.

They tie up their horses at the stable posts entering the camp as it began to die down, bodies lay motionless in the grass snoring loudly creating a unrelenting unharmonious echo. Lord Arryn and Royce are awaiting their return standing near the shooting range. "Great uncle, we have a situation."

"What situation?" Brynden nor the others are in a controversial mood, it is quiet enough taking care of corpses in the village.

Robin frowns placing a hand on a brow "Sansa isn't speaking, she's refusing to leave tomorrow unless we find Ghost."

"Who in the bloody fuck is Ghost?"

"Her cousin's direwolf, she probably feels most responsible seeing as the warden trusted only her to look after him while he's away searching for Arya Stark."

Brynden sighs, "Edmure," he pulls his nephew close, "take a tracker with you find the nearest den reported three and half miles east in Harrenhall's direction."

Edmure nods, "yes uncle I'll take a squadron and we'll return to the caravan in the morning."

"Good lad." Brynden says seeing him off, these are the moments he's proud to call Edmure a son to him. He turns to the Valeman forming behind their lords, "we have news ourselves, we think there's a location of the culprits attacking the Iron Islands."

"Report is true my lord, we had a situation of our own delaying a return. I think, you'd better take a look for yourselves." Harrold adds showing his lords claw marks indenting his steel shield differentiating from other incidents. "We shouldn't speak here." Yohn says.

"You're right gather your lords and meet me at the fortress drawbridge, urgent matters need discussing." Brynden leaves the Valemen pushing through the crowd rallying Rivermen, Northmen, and Iron Born for their hearing.

—-

**XXX**

—**-**

The small council lounge around the table short of some current members: Tyrion, Bronn, Davos, and Varys are present. Bran, Brienne and Podrick traveled for business to the Stormlands planning a return in the coming days before the start of the capital festival. "Surely I miss our king, Lady Brienne, and Pod as much as everyone else yet its gratifying having only treasury finances and food supply on our plate to discuss." Tyrion says toasting Bronn who fills his cup to the brim.

"Would've been better had we sent Ser Chum with em.' Bronn laughs glancing at Davos leaning in his chair.

"That's Lord Chum to you," Davos frowns crossing his arms, "just so you know I'd rather stand beside them then squabble around a table with former thieves—"

"I'm still a thief."

"My point exactly," Davos turns to Tyrion, "and you?" Tyrion arches his brows in surprise, "you are the king's hand, still you choose bedding ladies and drinking your day with thieves."

Tyrion sips his goblet, "as much as I hate my father he was always a step ahead of everyone, I was mistaken in that regard," he says swishing the wine around, "he just knew everyone better than himself, is that now you Lord, Davos?"

"Comparing me to Tywin Lannister? I don't know wether to be flattered or revulsed , I'm going say the latter." Davos sighs shaking his head, "it's times like these I ever wondered why I agreed to work with you guys."

Sam doesn't disagree without Bran they won't come together for their common goal. They will sit here bickering for hours on end. "There's no use arguing about trivial things. We should focus on the king's meeting Storm's Landing. Supposedly Bran considers Gendry as a replacement should something unforeseen happen."

"In the event Daenerys Targaryen decides to fly across the Narrow Sea into the capital burning it once more." Varys says.

Sam gulps nodding, "yes...That. Also in case the king dies of natural causes." The others turn to the maester listening intently, "there's isn't any way to know what will happen, our king is the three eye raven, not Bran Stark."

"I hear the three eye raven lives thousands of years giving up humanity obtaining the entirety of every past event in their arsenal, a truly marvelous, ambiguous power." Tyrion adds.

"Regardless of our king's abilities, power lies where men believes it does. We need people to at least believe our king isn't vulnerable like the rest. By all accounts the three eye raven can be killed as easily as an ordinary man despite living for longer past the standard lifespan." Varys says folding robe sleeves together, the master of spies words are a double edge sword. He offers a solution and a problem always critically thinking outside the box bringing a propionate balance of optimism and pessimism.

"This is an advantageous situation," Davos says perking up, "if we play this opportunity correctly there's a chance the situation will work itself out." The master of ships smiles pouring a wine cup, "all of us here are liars, good ones I add at one point we've lied to stay ahead—This is one of those times." Davos gulps the drink as they exchange glances.

Tyrion holds a finger in the air, "Let me take a wild guess. You want to portray our king in the same light as the other kings before excluding my nephew Tommen?"

Varys sighs, "unfortunately thats Samwell's point exactly Lord Tyrion. King Brain is susceptible to attack by living and undead armies."

"Don't think we got too much to worry from Ol Night Prick, they're all..." Bronn furrows his brows waving a hand, "you get the bloody point." Bronn swings his feet on the oak table drinking greedily.

"Regardless of the white walkers extinction, assuming our enemies due their diligence on us as we've done on them. If they find out we have a king who's immobile as Aerys II and has kindness rivaling our previous king, it is weakness on our part." Sam says surveying the table.

Tyrion folds hands over his face, "lets say you're onto something Sam; Our Westerosi people believe our king is kind and just. Enemies can obtain false intel to be convinced he's a soft cripple with folklorish power. We believe he's the best damn chance the world has at peace." Tyrion grits his teeth taking a larger chug than necessary finishing the cup, "so what next? We proclaim to the world our king murders people in their sleep giving him the name's of Kings past.

The table stands silent once more as they shift looking anywhere but one another. Having come to an impasse in their meeting the five contemplate their next words, "somebody best speak up," Bronn says refilling his cup, "you're putting me to sleep for fuck's sake."

Varys scoots his chair forward, "a suggestion on my part, perhaps we should take up arms against Daenerys Targaryen and her reinvigorated forces mounting toward Meereen at the moment. Essos's great powers hold us responsible for her untimely resurrection at the hands of the red priests in the city of Volantis." He shudders at the mention of those damn priests, one day they'll get what is coming to them, that he is guaranteeing.

"Varys I really don't see how that solves—"

"Hold on a moment Sam," Davos leans forward raising a hand, "you want to try assassinating the dragon queen? You're willing to risk hundreds of thousands of lives for a murder attempt. If we fail we're the idiots who got everyone, especially our king killed," Davos sighs staring at his resting hands on the table, "we succeed, we'll be hailed as heroes. Hell there's a high probability Essos will reopen their trade market."

Bronn glances between the others at the table, "you can forget about it, fought one dragon got one life, I prefer keeping mine thank you very much."

Tyrion coughs in a fist, "we're missing the point of endangering our king's life. If we want to show we're a power perhaps there is a chance we travel to Braavos's Iron Bank, buy the golden company adding to our military bulk. The revenue we'll receive from this national warg holiday will pay our debt and allow us to buy more ships from the Western free cities. Who would dare oppose us with elephants on our side?"

"Thought all the elephants went endangered?" Bronn asks.

"Harry Strickland and his bannermen were wiped out. Usually in an organized sell sword company for hire dies once the head is cut off the body withers away with it." Sam explains folding his arms.

"Strickland was the Golden Company's captain general. Yet they kept more than half their twelve thousand sell swords in Essos."

"Can I mention again, the fucking elephants." Davos said unable to contain a toothy grin.

Tyrion toasts the master of ships, "I've seen the wall, wights, direwolves. Since my birth I always wanted to see a dragon and here I sit wishing to see those magnificent elephants."

For the first time the room is in agreement, "I'd pay top shelf coin to ride around High Garden on an elephant. The fuck would I need to be king for? The girls will call me majesty from the Wall to Sunspear."

"Guys I think we're getting off track here..." Sam starts.

"Elephants are fascinating beasts however riding one is near impossible less you are born for it. Taming a direwolf requires duality, a dragon requires dominance, an elephant is more a mystery than anything. Warging into the creatures proved unsuccessful at times as it had every time for a lion, those beasts are kindred spirits." Tyrion says wishing to see Lannister's bannister animal one day, what he'd pay for even a deceased one to hang above Casterly Rock's great mantle above the fireplace in their great hall.

"Still Varys you must admit, with the amount of ships at our disposable we could trade a few for furs. Answering honestly I have to stay loyal to my fellow Night's Watch brother, I'd rather own a direwolf." Varys rolls his eyes, Davos drops his forehead in a palm, Tyrion stares stone face, watching Bronn peg Sam with a bread roll.

"Way to spoil it Tarly."

"Alright, enough games," Sams waves a hand pinching his nose inhaling, "we're not buying any elephants the king would never approve it and I bet the Golden Company refuses offers daily from high bidders across the world accumulating an elephant to their army. I don't even want to get into the cost of maintaining those great beasts."

Tyrion rubs a brow, "after the convocation I'm sure we'll be out of debt redline having more than enough to buy armies by the garrison or construct one from scratch."

After Tyrion was captured by Jorah Mormont I traveled the Valyrian roads east of Pentos past Ghogan Drohe's ruins in the Velvetan Hills. I learned from an old friend, Illyrio Mopatis—"

"Ha! The fat bastard hasn't dropped dead from the size of his neck, you could practically fit an entire ham hock underneath I find it satisfyingly laughable." Tyrion drinks smirking at thoughts of Illyrio chocking on a chunk of meat and cheese stuffed between bread loaves, a personal favorite of his. Though he'd give the man his credit, he could drink even him underneath the table any night of the week.

"On the contrary I think you'll be quite amused he's enlarged more, they call him 'Cheese Monger' and 'Lord of Cheese' for good reason. He had reappeared weeks earlier awaiting the dragon queen's reemergence as everyone else. Anyway this lord is backing the reinvigorated sell swords marching from Volantis to Meereen, the most likely event is they're accompanying the dragon queen as we speak."

Tyrion scratches his beard, "so Harry Strickland and his company were only the central battalion?"

"Strickland's loyalists in the company faded years prior, his once staunchest supporters and benefactors were few and far between."

"Makes sense," Bronn pours another resting his boots on the table, "sellswords follow whoever pays them the most gold. Thanks to our old weasel friend Littlefinger the crown's treasure coin left is in shambles due to all the loans he took out from the Iron Bank. Strickland wasn't followed because he took money holding no weight in gold, the currency probably didn't even matriculate though the bank. Real sell swords only fight with payment up front, coin in your hand is the only language we speak."

Sam leans on forearms, "if I'm understanding you correctly, your implying the Golden Company leaders rebelled splitting the factions. The bulk remaining in Essos march from Volantis for Daenerys, they're probably already at her side.

"Assume the Iron Bank has prior knowledge Cersei would lose the war over, if it wasn't obvious enough. The likely scenario is they sent Harry Strickland on a suicide mission to gauging the mother of dragon's strength. They only managed to kill Rhegal alongside the Greyjoy fleet but were absolutely massacred by Drogon." Davos replies.

"Still killing one dragon isn't anything to sniff at. I barley grazed her big boy and got good ol' kingslayer out the fire's path, you remember that?"

"I try to forget," Tyrion sighs remembering calling his brother a fucking idiot for charging Daenerys with Drogon on full alert, "let's not get sidetracked again; we can't simply buy the Golden Company then, Cersei used up our good favor even if we present a paid debt and money those bank greeds the company won't commit to us."

"I'm inclined to say you're both correct. The Golden Company are top sellswords who will only commit to the highest gold bidder. However even if we acquire the necessary currency their services aren't guaranteed. Sellswords as you know Bronn follow strong capable leaders, if they're under a newer captain-general it would've to be someone reliably capable serving under Daenerys." Davos places his good hand under his chin, "for the love of fuck I can't remember that commander leading the Unsullied."

"Who could forget the ball less leader invading Casterly Rock, gray storm—"

"Greyworm." Tyrion replies.

"It isn't our old friend Greyworm my lords. The new leader was selected after we sailed here our Unsullied commander fought for Daenerys and sailed to the island of Naath as his queen returned home."

"Daario Naharisis is the Golden Company's captain-general." Says hiding a smirk behind the cup.

Varys holds his mouth agape, "I take offense you stealing my thunder." He shrugs a shoulder continuing on ignoring Tyrion's widening smirk pulling a fast one on his old friend. "Our friend Daario served as queen regent during Daenerys's conquest on these shores. He was awaiting her return traveling from Myr to Volantis placing the seven sons at the head of the company now under Daenerys if they keep them paid that is."

"Seven sons ain't no fuckin pushovers. Though I heard one of the new Golden Company banners is 'Little Pussy.'" Bronn laughs heartily hitting a hand against the table slapping a knee, "think they're like you Varys? I'm betting, they're worse than the Unsullied. How the bannermen get such a name like that, lay down to get fucked instead of fighting?"

The table laughs as Tyrion passes the newly open Arbor to Davos, "this is exactly why we like having you on the council Bronn, not because you're a cheapskate with our finances."

"As much as I disagree with Lord Tyrion's statement about Lord Cheapskate," Davos sips the arbor passing the bottle down, "but that name is ignominy at its finest, no telling me otherwise. Though it can't be understated from what Varys and I spoke of earlier the name doesn't represent their spirit, it's an oxymoron at best."

"Can someone explain to me how a pussy is weak? Seems like the opposite to me can stretch giving birth to a fucking basin, and tighten to the point of strangulation. In my humble experience it's one the strongest weapons on earth." Bronn leans back resting his hands behind his head, "tell me I'm wrong I'll wait."

Sam clears his throat, "again try staying on topic Bronn. If this Daario guy is so great, why did you two leave him behind?"

Tyrion and Varys exchange a glance, "it wasn't our decision of course, Daenerys left him behind wanting to find a suitor accustomed to Westerosi culture, I'm sure she had someone southern in mind, a lord who kept a foothold in the capital court's political sphere. When we first arrived at Dragonstone, Jon Snow wasn't in her venacular, in all honestly she was too strong for him, hell for any one person."

Varys rolls his eyes once more, "no one and I repeat no one wants to hear your sob story about Daenerys not choosing you as a suitor."

Tyrion hit a fist off the table, "it wasn't about that." The council glance at the king's hand noting his change, "I truly believed in my heart she was the answer Westeros had been searching for in its history. A girl sold into slavery by her twin brother to Dothraki Bloodriders following only the fiercest Kahls in the land. She survived harsh conditions raising three dragons, gathering an army rivaling any in the world while becoming the enslaved people's liberator becoming a hero. Sure the road was bumpy at times but it was the best job anyone could've done given the circumstances." The table is silent hearing his impassioned admiration for who Daenerys was. In that moment he watched the Targaryens seek one another out that night on the ship. It was one of disappointment, not Daenerys it hadn't been the first time she went with someone who wasn't him. He was disappointed in choice of suitor. Jon Snow is respectable, the best Westeros offered, King in the North at that time. However he was far from the political savvy advisor who could have helped navigate her through Westerosi culture, their continent requires more discretion than Essos. Varys proved right as always, 'It didn't last and never had a chance to.' Perhaps Daario should've accompanied her or better yet had Jorah lived it might've been different, then again things are meant to be this way—Bran is a good king.

"Sounds to me you're ready to suggest siding with Daenerys over our king, make up your fucking mind you were suggesting killing her a minute earlier."

Tyrion points at the sell sword, "don't place words in my mouth, I suggested at one point she could've been the greatest ruler Westeros has ever seen."

Varys shut his mouth pondering a moment, "if you don't mind me asking, are you suggesting our current king isn't the best suited ruler."

"Sometimes Varys I can't tell if your enemy or friend, it bothers the hell out of me but it's what amazes me about you. I meant every word I spoke in front of the second Dragonpit meeting. Bran's story is remarkable yet is vastly unknown, our king isn't a fortune teller. The mere fact he can see any event in the past able to enter them at his leisure. My only trepidation is why we aren't given explanations for things." Tyrion says crossing his arms awaiting the others input.

"I for one appreciate the ambiguity of it all, I can only speak for myself." Sam sips the sweet wine allowing the buzz to repress pent emotions, "Bran has known Daenerys burned my father and brother alive, he chose to allow things to take their natural turn..." Sam knits his brows, "except when it came to Jon's heritage...He said it was time to tell him who he truly is. It's not that I disagreed with it but...I was angry," Sam shakes clenching his fists, "so fucking angry. It was nothing compared to his anger. I can't help wondering why Bran chose the most uncertain time creating doubt in an already conflicted Daenerys."

Davos glares at Sam as if a second head appears on his neck, "tell me I didn't just hear what I think did coming from you Samwell Tarly. Have you gone mad? Bran isn't held responsible for the outcome between Jon and Daenerys, whatever happened has no reprimands weighing on in our king."

"Lord Davos the facts are evident. Revealing Jon Snow's identity held no true purpose then to create division between the fledging pair and alert the Kingdom lords of Westeros Jon Snow was the true heir to the crown. With that prior knowledge floating abour in the realm's social sphere even when Daenerys seized power the Westerosi powers would've intervened, destroying them and their lands was a logical move in her case." Sam replies.

Tyrion settles his cup leaning further on the table clasping hands together rolling one into a circular motion reeling the information out of the whisper master. "Where are you going with all this Varys? You always have a point, I as everyone would like to hear it."

"Our king is the single most knowledgeable and resourceful entity in the world. What concerns me is he doesn't hold himself above using chaos as a ladder ascending to the highest authority in the land." The small council fall silent staring at space in front of them. It is easy to overlook the king's actions as they witnessed Daenerys's succumb to years of hatred for Westerosi choosing to rule by fear killing approximately two million in total or perhaps they're all overthinking it.

"Not to mention, the Night King specifically targeted Bran. Jon surmised he only resurrected Visceron to destroy the wall's magic and accelerate the long night's timeline killing Bran in a shorter span. He nor his walker generals weren't seen by anyone but Theon Greyjoy and the fallen Ironborn, they didn't bat an eye at anyone else except our king. If he was so powerful why risk everything to attack Bran? Why not kill us first securing the castle of Winterfell...It would've made sense considering his necromancy ability has the power to raise the dead to his leisure...It was almost as if..." Sam glances up at the ceiling unable to believe what he's saying, "the Night King's endgame was Bran the entire time. The walkers must've had their own prophecy, racing against time to prevent the king's ascension...The Night King was doing the right thing to him, they held a purpose."

"You're suggesting the white walker general waited patiently for thousands of years till a night he could attack the king? I don't believe that holds any validity to it Sam." Davos says.

"Night King this, Night King that," Bronn fills his cup pointing around the table, "last I heard the big bad waiting for our king you're fawning over was knifed to pieces by a faceless girl, don't feed me no more of that shit." Bronn gulps the Arbor finding Tyrion, "what I want to know is why were you hiding in a crypt with the fucking dead that can be resurrected? You're supposed to be the cleverest man in Westeros, that title went down the shitter pretty quickly."

Sam bursts out a laugh, the others join in as Tyrion nods accepting the failure, among the many in his tenure as Hand of the Queen. "I'll be the first to say I drank our entire ride north." He drinks again extenuating his point, "presumably its safe to say my mistake wasn't gravest considering every person emerged relatively unharmed." Tyrion drinks again emptying the cup, "we won't ever bring up what was spoken about our king. So far he's the best we could've asked for, we each agreed to our positions for a common goal," he holds a hand up halting Bronn's interjection, "we all want what's best for Bran and the six kingdoms under our jurisdiction collectively. When we host the houses here for a week we'll discuss everything we have listed, as hosts we cannot fail the king."

The small council nods in agreement, the week long festival is their only chance to prove the capital leadership is competent. They aren't the old council, only Tyrion and Varys had experience during the best and worst of times. It's time to show their neighboring countries despite cultural differences and past bloodshed they could leave everything behind.

Davos exhales, "that's quite a rousing speech you gave. We've talked this entire damn time without you coming to a solution on how to better protect our king deterring foreign invaders."

"We could go over the candidates for Bran's kingsgaurd as a start." The council shoot down Sam's proposal.

Tyrion scoots his chair sliding against the tile, "I think we've accomplished next to nothing today, good show everyone much better than yesterday's disaster." The previous day was a series of drunk shouting matches barley edging coherrant words into the conversation, today was more productive in his estimation. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."

Davos rises stretching, "so what're we all doing this evening? Dinner is on me tonight." He says strapping the satchel over a shoulder.

"Heading off to get drunk, discuss bullshit, probably hit a brothel later on, notin you two be interested in." Bronn laughs stacking loose letters in a bundle pack.

"I don't think Sam and I like what you're suggesting."

"Ah Davos Seaworth, I recall yesterday you referring to yourself in third person as the morale compass of our small council." Sam cracks a smile holding in a chuckle, "you don't belong in a room full of liars and thieves such as us." Tyrion says placing hands on his sides.

Davos opens his mouth shutting it quickly too flabbergasted Tyrion blacked out drunk recalled him blabbering that out. "Sam you in?" Bronn asks "you skipped out on us last time."

"Not tonight Gilly will kill me if I stay late past dinner two nights in a row." Sam is positive she is secretly still pissed he stumbled in too intoxicated passing out immediately upon arriving.

"Why am I the only one excluded in these thievery games?" Davos questions.

Varys chuckles folding his sleeves, "according to reliable sources Samwell is the greatest modern thief in the Watch's and House Tarly's history. He stole his house's ancestral sword, not to mention a wildling girl and her baby."

"Don't be ridiculous I didn't steal Gilly nor her baby, Now the sword I'll admit and the books from the Citadel I still have checked out..." Sam nods seeing Vary's point, "okay, I may, may not be, the greatest thief in Westeros."

Bronn laughs obnoxiously patting the spider on a shoulder, "goddammit Tarly you beautiful bastard, I taught you well." He sniffs wiping at his nose unable to contain his grin.

"You didn't teach him anything, except how to make an ass of yourself and get drunk. Fine enjoy wasting away your brains, I got business to attend anyhow." Davos says throwing his hands up.

"See you guys bright and early, don't black out Tyrion we've all seen how you get."

Tyrion arches a brow, "I have no idea what you mean Samwell."

Sam shakes his head, "don't be an asshole is what Sam is trying to say." Bronn says earning a scowl from the dwarf.

The pair exit leaving the trio alone, "now then lets quit wasting time the night is young."

"Outta wine," Bronn says halting Tyrion's tracks, "could take a bit, I'll make a trip to the marketplace."

"That could take a few hours—" Tyrion's minor complaint about his job would be the 'bring own wine' rule. They weren't authorized drink away the crown's reserves paying for it as everyone else does.

"Do not fret companions, I have more than enough stocked in my own reserve, I'll meet you both there." Varys branches off disappearing down a side corridor.

Varys pushes his solar doors open finding a trunk at the room's end. A whisper behind forces him to glance over a shoulder furrowing his brows unsure what what sounded a moment earlier. The trunk releases a chill breeze, ice crunches as Varys stuffs two frozen Arbor bottles in a open knapsack clicking the padlock tucking its key into a nearby desk drawer closing the door behind him glancing in both directions before making his way toward the former small council chambers. Strolling the Red Keep's halls are too familiar sights as shouts from the crowd can be heard below reminding him of cloudier times. Regardless his thoughts about their current Ring's autonomous intentions it is a welcome change than serving under Aerys II, Joffrey, and Daenerys herself.

The master of whispers steps into a familiar chamber surviving the dragon queen's pyro attack. His gaze roams the extensive court landing on familiar steps leading to an unoccupied space reserved for Bran's chair. In its empty spot stood the Iron Throne, a storied seat whom many had sacrificed everything they ever loved only to never come close to obtaining it. Varys gives a last glance toward the emptiness veering to Tyrion's meet. "_Are you going to up and leave without talking to an old friend." _

Varys halts, the same voice he heard earlier only it wasn't disembodied, "to call us friends would mean we conversed on more than a few occasions, it's to my short recollection we haven't."

Littlefinger smirks descending the step rotating the mockingbird silver ring set on a pinky. His silver garments sharp and clean, never a spec of dust or wrinkle present, Baelish considers fashion a mainstay aside from his businesses and financial responsibilities. "_I may be very dead but you know memories never fade," Littlefinger shakes his head suppressing a laugh standing feet from Varys. "You look like hell, maybe worse, seems you barley managed to slip through Daenerys Targaryen's grasp, she succumbed to her family's madness quicker than I anticipated." _

Varys grips the wine bag tight unable to shake whatever he's seeing, "her nature has always been fire and blood. During numerous small council meetings you always beat the drum about murdering a young child across the Narrow Sea."

"_Ah, yet it was you Varys who sent a personal spy to poison her granting Jorah Mormont, a notorious slaver and disgraced knight in Westeros decreed none other than by King Robert himself, hunted by Ned Stark, a royal pardon." _

Varys hand emerges out the sleeve, "lets not compare resumes', yours I'm sure need water blessed from the holy sept to cleanse the filth from it—This is coming from an atheist for the record."

_Littlefinger places his hands behind his back behind his back, "its folly to acting as if you're self righteous." Littlefinger paces keeping his eyes trained on Varys, "you tried to unravel my plan after Ned Stark's capture, what reason would you have doing that?" _

"Don't ask questions you know the answer to," Varys says guarding his composure the man before him is refusing to vanish. "You knew saving Ned Stark's life could've prevented the Robb Stark and the northern alliance's retaliation. The five king war was set in match for your selfish desire over a happily married woman whom never considered you more than her younger brother."

Littlefinger pulls down his collar slightly showing the gruesome scar, "_from neck to belly I was sliced open professing love for a woman whom was betrothed to another. I never forgot what Brandon Stark did to me on me that day; humiliation, pain, anger, so much anger." The former master of coin meets Varys's eyes reflecting a cold soulless stare, "maybe it was being told I'll never use my arm again, maybe when I received no inheritance or when I was rejected entrance to the Vale's military ranks. I've never forgotten what Eddard Stark's elder brother did to me that day and I swore—" _

"Revenge on the Starks is played out and has been for some time. Did you really expect to get Catelyn Stark after all you did?"

Littlefinger's smirk returns, "_I'm not really here Lord Varys, I'm part of your tortured imagination a quite fascinating one really," _he releases a slight chuckle connecting fingertips, "_do you want me to tell you what that voice in the fire said when the warlock tossed your bits in the flames? No, you already know what it said, then again it doesn't matter," Littlefinger turns to the stair he descended minutes earlier, "I wanted to sit there one day with Cat raising children at the side. After the duel we hadn't spoken until—" _

"You never tire using filibuster horse manure in court and life Lord Baelish. You lied. When you stowed always Catelyn Stark in your brothel you claimed you—"

"_Lost the Valyrian Dagger used by a catspaw to assassinate Bran Stark in a wager against Tyrion Lannister, that is the lie. The truth is I lost the real wager to our king, Robert Baratheon. I know every move I made as well as anyone who would who ever walked through those small council doors during my tenure. I truly wanted what I said, but as you know Lord Varys we never truly get what we truly want."_

Varys studies Littlefinger intently, only the gods knew what the deviant play none of them clued the mockingbird's next move. He recalls telling Illyrio the exact phrase when Eddard Stark asked if he joined forces with the Mockingbird he responds in kind saying he'd sooner rather wed the Black Goat of Qohor, 'a god residing in the free city rising as Rhllor's most prominent religious opposition threatening to spark crusades. "You were a good embezzler I must say, the best Westeros may have ever seen. Cersei hurt the crown's treasury more than your overdrawn loans from the Iron Bank." Varys will give him this, other than serving as master of coin keeping them financially stable for years were the only reasons Kings and Hands attention every time he spoke. "Not everything you say isn't false you made yourself vulnerable for one reason."

"_Yes I'd given up everything for Sansa Stark, I loved her just as much as much as her mother_." Littlefinger glances around the chamber wishing the great game played out a little differently, "_I however had underestimated the Stark's bond to each other—"_

"You encountered Jon Snow?"

"_The previous King in the North didn't have a clue the betrayal I laid bare at his family's feet. He wanted to protect his sister he grew up with attacking me when I professed my undying love and devotion to Sansa. At first I assumed he caught me red handed for my crimes but he is like all the other Stark men. Quick to anger and their slow minds catch on too late until their head is rolling at their feet, have they learned honor gets you nowhere in this life."_ Littlefinger places a hand on his temple glancing at the marble floor, "_it wasn't the bastard who worried me...Sansa's siblings Arya and Bran returned home unexpectedly. Arya Stark the Hero of Winterfell returned, unreadable, unpredictable, and faceless. Whoever Arya Stark was then isn't who she is now...Somewhere along the line I realized she was the closest to Sansa, not the cripple, not the bastard, Sansa chose her younger sister who she despised growing up. You see Lord Varys I wasn't the only one who slipped, except my intentions didn't hurt anyone—"_

Varys arches a brow leaning toward Littlefinger, "you're really going to stand there and spoon feed me bullshit. I have no patience nor time for this, your intentions get most men killed the moment they decide to trust you. Honorable Eddard may have not been the smartest fellow, he certainly didn't trust you the moment he climbed off his horse, hell it was one of the smartest decisions he made. You sold his and Catelyn's first daughter to a monster, don't tell me your intentions never hurt anyone." Varys scoffs appalled those words were uttered.

Littlefinger tucks his chin staring at the floor for a moment. "_Yes that is my single greatest regret along with not being able to save Cat's life." He remembers crying harder than his humiliating defeat upon hearing the love of his life's death. I sought my chance to take what was rightfully stolen, but you Lord Varys, what did you slip for? The good of the realm." Littlefinger's mouth laughs, his eyes don't staying trained on his long time rival, "what is your purpose you fight for? Friends and family aside from your own children are a waste, and since you can't have that, what is is you want?" _

Littlefinger has a point, it's something he's been searching for his entire life. "I can't deny you're you had far more so called friends than I've had, I never sought something trivial, as you know friends are all too easy to manipulate," Littlefinger arches a brow Varys folds his sleeves pacing the floor, "you could say the small council we have is similar to the ones we served," Varys smirks facing Littlefinger, this council is different; we argue as children, hardly accomplish a diplomacy and are constantly at each other's throats bordering on a toxic environment. Through all that we'd protect each other and those we hold precious, despite everything we're good friends. Something you wouldn't know if it bit you in the ass." Littlefinger cracks a fox humored grin humored always by the spider, "I contemplated leaving everything behind once. Essos is a much nastier viler place than Westeros, far stronger much tougher men have been broken in a lot brutaler ways. Some would consider as a slave I faired lucky, naturally I didn't see it that way. By chance I came upon a game children played in the streets telling each other blabbering adults spewed reserving detail. It was then I knew my purpose Lord Baelish." Varys recounts the times they stood in this very chamber at one another's throats, "anyone can carry the name Varys the spider, little birds will become big birds and they will carry the torch set forth."

"_And what would that be Lord Varys?" _

"We're at odds in every conceivable way, that's something not up for debate. Your truth nor anyone else's, there's always the truth. That's exactly what I intend on carrying on before I meet my fate. I can't say the same for you Lord Baelish. You don't have a legacy, no birds carrying a will, just a memory set to fade."

Littlefinger frowns adjusting his gloves, "_clearly I'm a memory, one you can't escape nor can say ever will. It's true I didn't leave any legacy, my plans for that died along with my cat. However I suppose its time for this joyous reunion of ours to end. I'll reaffirm this truth, what the small council discussed regarding our king. Bran repeated something interesting to me, the same words I said to his father as I held a dagger to his throat, 'I did warn you not to trust me' and he used my phrase 'chaos is a ladder.' Using others folly to ascend in power together the Starks handled it better than I'd anticipated." _

"I understand concern regarding our king, what do you mean Starks?"

"_Isn't it obvious?" _Littlefinger's cape swirls revealing a silver patterned print covered in the mockingbird sigil as he paces, "_Every pupil I've had taught them all they know, not all I know. The only exception being Sansa, she studied the game listened well, bided her time and now stands as the single power in the north. It was her who informed Tyrion Lannister Jon Snow's Targaryen heritage, it should have been obvious she wanted Daenerys gone before her fiery number on the capital. My pupil now is jointing with Robin Arryn—"_

"Lord of the Vale, the sniveling boy who clutched his mother's dress."

"_Precisely, two who I entrusted my knowledge obtaining power. It's evident in the way Lord Arryn slaughters the Vale mountain clans, he took my advice coming quite well into his own."_ Littlefinger halts his step unclasping his hands, "_the moment Bran Stark said those words I understand at that moment what he planned on doing. Ironic isn't it Varys? The king found my method rising in power the only true way to seize kingship. At the first drawn blood in war you saw how it can break the most civilized person. When that happens they will become animals cannibalizing each other until the Orchestrator remains, the days of war heroes killing the king in a final battle are long over at least that's not how the Night King saw it." _

Vary's grip tightens on the gripping wine knapsack, "I can't deny what you said though there are who oppose everything you and your pupils stand for."

"_They won't be a problem if they don't return sailing west. Arya Stark is likely dead sunken at the bottom of the Sunset Sea as thousands of others have. There's an old saying Maester Pycell as thousands of others have_, '_sailing the twilight sea is similar to traveling through Sothoryos; the irresistible pull of exploring the vastness beauty far away lands is a fool's calling. The unknown and unpredictable make even the bravest men naturally quiver which explains why not even dragon riders were able to put a dent in their travels.'" It is common knowledge there are some places inaccessible in their world based off environmental factors alone." _

"Had you known how the old maester died I'm sure you'd forgotten those words. Those factors scare every man not applicable only to the brave. None of us know how things will play out, I can't disagree with any of your points. Our ideologies are night and day, we will never see eye to eye. I think whatever higher power above. It's as I always said, 'Even if I'm stranded in the open sea, the big fish eat the little fish and I just keep on paddling."

"_Always the humorous one Lord Varys, it continually slips my mind you were a stage actor beforehand, took me quite a bit of digging on my end to find that detail. You won't show it, I know you better than most, probably better than yourself." _Littlefinger meets Vary's gaze, "_you're getting sloppy old friend, that trick you pulled won't work on Daenerys Targaryen a second time, especially in her stable mind. She finds out a duplicate replaced you during the day covering your tracks, you'll burn this time Varys...For good." _

Varys smirks coming to stand only feet away though I've come close to death, many times I can safely say as of now I've outlived you after years pondering which of us would've died first, that's the nature of this conversation's nature. I live to see another while you Lord Baelish...Varys smirks folding his sleeves suppressing a rare chuckle, "well I don't have to state the obvious do I?"

Littlefinger finger grimaces, "_you're indeed different then when we last spoke. I can't express how abhorrent I found your last remarks. No matter," _Littlefinger strolls leisurely toward the stainless window clasping his hands behind his back, "_two Starks mastered obtaining and holding power in Westeros. Should disagreements arise to a boiling point chaos will reign reconstructing the ladder once more as I predicted, don't believe for a moment the three eye raven belongs on any throne. It's an entity, only Brandon Stark in name, no humanity remains with your king." _

"Bran Stark is Westero's best viable option better than what would've been in place—"

"_The dragon queen is a superior solution by all measurables, If I were the bastard I would've stayed by her side—"_

Varys rolls his eyes, "you would betray her the moment she stands in the north. You couldn't care less for Daenerys Targaryen, whom I for one much enjoyed until our time even in Westeros."

Littlefinger nods regarding Varys once more, "_nothing any of us says makes a difference, the same problems arise again, in a way I'm free of all this you're the man destined to do this forever." _

"I don't desire to live forever, the fact I'm seeing you means I already hold one foot in the grave."

"_Half dead, seeing this is all in your head," _he says retreating to the adjacent hallway near the stair, "_see you soon Varys." _He grins disappearing down the corridor as two guards emerge sweeping their assigned perimeter.

Varys nods smiling watching the patrol men disappear. He clutches his chest nearly falling onto a knee. He dabs his forehead using a half folded handkerchief sighing as he grips the wine noting water puddling the floor. Varys frowns glancing down the dark corridor Littlefinger disappeared down continuing to his chambers."

"What do you think they're discussing up there?" Sam asks pushing through the crowd.

"Nonsense, absolute nonsense." Davos says sliding between two carts unbelieving Sam executes it in stride.

"Look all I'm saying is we need to infiltrate one of their meetings, who knows they could be planning something. Why all the secrecy all of a sudden?"

Davos laughs holding his gut, "only thing those three are talking about is thieving off someone or something and drinking themselves to death."

"You left out the part where they plan on discussing what we did during the meeting. I-I don't feel comfortable—" Sam halts glancing at Davos narrowly avoiding a cart crashing through the fluid crowds weaving by traffic jams abundant until the harbor expected to be a hundred times more tumultuous than current conditions.

The former onion knight shakes his head unable to fathom witnessing a second miracle, "as I said before it shouldn't be any of our concern Samwell, we should be worried concentrating how in fuck's sake we're going to accommodate all the damn ships in the harbor for a week." Davos pursues Sam following him down a familiar side street, "and one more thing!" Sam faces Davos offering a smile, "it's going to take an entire day organizing a secure exit strategy before the vessels start fucking moving."

Sam clasps a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "there's a reason our king king appointed you as the master ships, I'm sure you'll find someway to manage."

Davos exhales heavily, "I think I'll be alright without your advice. You still don't have your chain crafted from the Citadel."

Sam furrows his brows, "these maesters, something needs to be done about them. They're guarding a precious in the reserve vault. I intend finding out whatever it is."

"Didn't mean to rile you up Sam, was only kiddin," Davos crosses his arms moving out of a drunk pedestrians path, "having a chain doesn't amount to making you a grand maester. You are a brother of the Night's Watch, much more a maester than those rats who spent three of my lifetimes researching the world instead of explore, "they'd rather hide in their ivory tower until the end of time."

"Sam nods smiling warmly, "you know Tyrion and the others are right, you're our self proclaimed morale compass."

"Alright, alright I said it once enough of that shite." Davos turns from a chuckling Sam into a crowd of children holding a hand out, "no today you threw bastards go on get out here. We can't have you caught stealing again."

The grand maester flips three gold coins to the orphans sending off the direction they'd come, "you disapprove? I help them out every once in awhile for helping out about the neighborhood. They nearly beat a grown man to death. An unsavory way to go getting stomped by some kids."

Davos tucks his arms underneath the cloak, "they'll be back demanding more money and most importantly in a larger cradle mob."

"Sam! Davos!" Gilly runs into Sam's arms nuzzling into each other, she turns hugging Davos staggering the elder gentlemen as he returned the embrace. "Ser-Lord Davos always wonderful to see you."

"Ser is fine always with me, heck even geezer," Gilly hits his arms breaking the embrace.

Davos bows, "radiantly beautiful as ever Gilly." Her cheeks redden as Sam places an arms around her holding his side close.

Sam jr. descends the steps hobbling over to them. "Come on, that's my boy!" Sam launches the boy in the air catching him, repeating the motion releasing laughs if his own. He holds little Sam against him slapping hands with Davos earning a rare grin.

"Its only been a few months and you're walking wait till you start talking. Do me a favor, bug the snot outta your parents." Little Sam giggles holding a finger in his growing teeth hugging tighter to his dad, "ah he loves his papa however he's a mama's boy." Sam yawns latching quickly around his mother's neck.

"Gilly, careful now you're coming along slowly but surely." Sam says holding her steady.

"It's alright Sam, I'll be alright. I'm going to put junior to bed, you be joining us this evening for dinner Davos?" She asks halting at the top step.

"Oh no I appreciate the offer you two but there's something I have to get done, duty call this time m'lady."

"I'm sure you two will work something out, your welcome anytime, Sam don't bother Davos too long he's still working." They wave watching the door close.

"You didn't tell her did—" Sam pushes Davos shoulder shushing him, "what the hells a matter with you—"

"Of course I haven't told her have you lost your marbles? I'm trying to raise a family here, if she finds out it will stress her with everything going on—"

Davos places a hand on him, "Sam, Gilly is a smart girl she'll find out the truth, all women do eventually, co workers, friend, spouse, it's a gift."

"I'd call it a curse if anything," Sam sighs shaking Davos hand, "you're right, I'll tell her over dinner, she deserves to know, we said we'd not keep things from one another."

"Good, see you bright and early." Davos says waving as Sam waits few moments before entering the home.

Davos pays a vendor for a turkey leg, having dinner on the go becomes a normal routine. Unlike the others he holds past outside city limits at the harbor keeping domain over it. The master of ships will occasionally asks Bronn for assistance for his experience in landing's harbor. As of recent he stopped asking due to the former sellswords disappearing act retreating to his pair of brothers in town depending on the day. "Lucky bastard," Davos finishes the leg tossing it aside striding to dock one. He holds a hand up receiving his second in command, "I don't care how we're going to pull this damn thing off, ain't got a fucking choice." Davos whistles loudly halting the workers on the docks, "we're not gonna get it done fast enough," he snatches the boards and planks from the nearest man, "move! I'm not staying all night for you lot." Workers began work on the sea docks stretching hundreds of meters taking lanterns illuminating the night.

"What in all the gods in the realm took you so long with the wine?" Tyrion asks running a hand through his hair."

"I was preoccupied with finding bottles that were suitable for the refreshments this evening. As promised I'm going to share with you two what I believe to be is my greatest achievement."

"Fascinating. So, that's how you did it, you had your successor take your place at Dragonstone the night before the execution. I feel sorry for the poor lad the least he could have had a final say in things. So he had all information on everyone," Tyrion sips his cup holding it in hands tapping fingers across the goblet. "Don't suppose it matters since he's dead after all, when did it happen exactly?"

"In the dungeons just before the dawn when the sun yet to rise he arrived hooded by boat holding a single lantern, there I gave him the final will. He knew his purpose is for the realm to serve as a duplicate, in exchange he expanded my empire in far corners of the world for the good of the realm."

"Must everything be a performance with you?"

"What ever do you mean? I hardly remember putting on any act as of recently."

"Seriously?" Bronn takes the glass Varys offers, "you don't remember prancing into the small council meeting acting under a guise?"

Varys tilts his head head slightly, " oh yes that part is all coming back to me now."

"Would it have been as easy as walking into the room saying 'well I'm back last time most of you saw me I was burned alive receiving shelter in the Grey Water Watch. Let's move pretend that never happened', would that have been better?"

"Yes." The duo reply.

Varys rolls his eyes, "you both are being as my little birds say, 'so over dramatic.'"

"I barley spoke a word of it." Tyrion grimaces slightly, he sloshes the wine around, "were you ever going to tell us about the switch you pulled."

"I pondered daily keeping it close to my vest, however I consider you both acquaintances of mine."

Bronn laughs leaning in his chair, "I'm glad we see eye to eye, ain't no friend a mine." Varys rolls his eyes folding his sleeves.

Tyrion sips his goblet savoring the wine on the rocks seated across the pair, "then I do hope I am a friend, if not you're sadly mistaken Bronn."

"Is that all you think about? Wine, Money, and harlots?"

"Yes." They answer once more, "what else is there to think about. Sure killin gets old not the payment, fuckin harlots never gets tiring. The older I get the younger they do. Speaking of, how in the gods names are they so young yet their tits grow larger every year."

"I know what you mean, as much as wine favors my palate. There's nothing like a firm pair of breast to draw my blank. I can't get through a day without wine either, imagine if I don't fuck, I'll go mad, perhaps I'll burn a city down." The trio share laughs toasting to the chilled wine.

"I've seen your father sit in that same chair hardly uttering a word as me and maester Pycell read our reports before waving a hand dismissing us as if we were children."

Tyrion settles his cup folding his hands, "you didn't know who he truly was, he will always be my father. But I hated him more than anything and wished him dead—" Tyrion's shakiness returns as he grasps the cup, "we're friends, we confide things to one another, no secrets—"

"I knew it you dirty cunt you fucked your cousin Lancel."

Tyrion furrows his brows, "close but no." He says holding the bird to Bronn who in kind smiles as if he stole something. "Bronn has heard some of this, but I'm done holding back."

_Tyrion laughs bursting through the tavern doors holding Valeria tightly gripping her ass pressing the brunette into the carriage. Their laughter dies down as they share a kiss, "we're married now, we should elope somewhere, I hear Braavos is marvelous." _

"_A splendid idea darling, exploring the world's wonders with you. We can decide where we want to go later, for now..." Tyrion lifts her dress us kissing down her legs stopping at her thighs._

_Valeria watches him tantalized by her small frame, "by a drunken sept and pigs as our witnesses we're joined together by the seven—" Her laughs echo as the carriage picks up speed descending the hill, "I have to thank your brother for saving me from my attackers, my these past few days have been a dream."_

_The carriage hits the bump sending Tyrion flying onto Valeria holding one another close. "Did you hear something?" Tyrion asks as branches snap in the distance._

"_Tyrion what is it love?" She asks grabbing his cheeks._

"_Nothing love," he places his hands on hers, "you make me the happiest—"_

_A several horse stampede race past their carriage cutting off their path as three horses linger behind. "Tyrion, Tyrion." Valeria grabs his vest attempting to refocus him as he stares at the familiar wagon._

The Kingslayer swings the door open pushing the newlyweds back, "_Jamie what the hell are you doing here? I told no one where I was going?" _

"_The septon who married you notified us two nights earlier by raven saying you were marrying the—" Jamie shuts his eyes grabbing Tyrion's shoulders, "Tyrion, tell me you didn't marry her, right now say its a lie." _

"_I won't! We're in love," Tyrion grabs her hand, "where Valeria goes, I do as well." _

_The Lannister carriage door cracks open slowly catching their attention. "Wait here, this won't take a moment," Tywin steps from the carriage holding a hand on a lion hilt. Tywin places a hand over the the wagon top glaring at the lovebirds. _

"_F-Father we, let me explain this please!"_

"_Out."_

"_I'm begging you it was all me, I took her maiden hood, I enticed her into marrying me, punish me not her I beg you." _

"_It's true I thanks you Ser Jamie Lannister for saving my life!" Valeria says sitting beside Tyrion, "we love each other truly me lord, we can marry at Casterly Rock if that pleases you." _

_Tywin's gaze remains on his son, "out." He steps aside as two guards take his place jamming the door hinge open. _

_Tyrion notices the wagon driver scamper over to the Lannister carriage. "Hey! What's going on?!" Stop this instant I command you! I order—"_

"_You're in no position to command anything, stand with your brother." _

"_Valeria!" Tywin grabs Tyrion's shoulder. Valeria's screams as her dress is torn to shreds discarded on the ground. She grips on the guards as they force themselves in roughly breaking the young woman in. Tyrion wrestles away from Tywin hearing Valeria's yelps for the soldiers to stop pushing at their armor. _

"_Take this cunt from the back, break this bitch."_

"_She's already wet and she's married to the imp lord, fucking whore." _

"_Tyrion! I'm so sorry!" _

_Tears streaming down his face Tyrion grabs Tywin's dagger aiming at his side. Jamie tackles Tyrion to the ground, "Tyrion, you fucking idiot!" He hands Tywin his dagger as the head of the Lannister clan whistles signaling the guards to stop as Valeria's stops her screaming losing what voice she has left. "Take him to his whore." Tywin says stepping aside. "Jamie get up."_

"_Father that's enou—"_

"_I said get up or you can spend your days on the Wall."_

_Jamie removes himself letting the guards take Tyrion hoisting him above Valeria. Her legs bleed profusely as Valeria's fluids, semen, and urine drenched the woman's body. Tyrion climbs over placing a hand on her cheek, "Valeria, my darling I love you, so so much." _

"_As I you Tyrion..." Her voice comes out a whisper fading into silence stripping her of any fight left. Tyrion grasps her hand kissing it tenderly laying on Valeria's chest. "Look at me Tyrion," she places a kiss on his forehead, "I love you." _

"_I love you too." He enters her gently taking her her the same after their ceremony, "I'm sorry, so sorry." He sobs holding her tightly. _

_The guards snatch Tyrion away as he bit one's neck drawing blood scratching another's eye out as he falls in the dirt restrained by Jamie once more. "Take the girl in the woods, do what you want with her." The couple have no fight left frozen in place clinging to whatever was left of their fractured self. "Let him go Jamie." Tywin commands as Jamie assists Tyrion to his feet. Tyrion strikes Jamie's armor bludgeoning his fists into a bloody pulp collapsing onto Jamie. "Do you see where foolish incompetence gets you?! Hm, do you now? I will not have my disgrace of a family marry a whore!" Tywin tugs at his collar standing over a kneeling Tyrion. "You're already an embarrassment enough waddling about for twenty damn years on this earth, doing as you please with nothing to show for, I won't have it! Tywin clasps his hands behind him heading toward his ride, "let this be a lesson Tyrion, never go against your family the debt is paid now son." _

_Tyrion pushes off Jamie, "no! No, it is I who owe you a debt father and I'm going to pay it. Be in ten years, I will pay my debt to you." _

_Tywin shakes his head walking off, "my children make a mockery of me and my family name. I'd rather be consumed by maggots then let my house be consumed by its own follies." He opens the front carriage picking up his waiting stack of letters. _

_Tyrion collapses in Jamie's hold, "stay here brother stay—" Jamie clutches Tyrion as the imp wraps his hands around his neck attempting to strangle him. Jamie throws him off, "Tyrion don't move, I'll be back." _

_Jamie reaches Cersei in the back carriage, "how is he Jamie?" She asks meeting his eyes. _

"_How do you think he is Cersei?" _

"_Terrible, I'd imagine. Don't feel sorry for him, he brought this mess on himself marrying that lowly whore." _

_Jamie frowns, "you're starting to sound like father. I'll see you back at home." _

"_Jamie," she calls as he returns to the wagon closer than before, "is Tyrion going to be alright?" His crying starts again echoing across the field. _

_Jamie shakes his head, "no, no he's not." He leaves returning to Tyrion. _

"_Good," Cersei sniffles wiping at her eyes turning away from Tywin, "I'd like to head home father." Cersei speaks through the sliding latch connecting their carts. _

"_We'll wait for Jamie—"_

"_Now father!" _

_Tywin's hand halts on a brow glancing at his daughter. He sighs rubbing a thumb across his hand glaring out the side, "yes suppose it's been a long enough day, Tywin signals the driver crossing a leg focusing on the letters from the crown, "oh and Cersei?" _

"_Yes father?" _

"_Put an end to the filthy rumors between you and Jamie the foul things people will say to try dividing our family apart from the inside out. Jamie is going to take my seat at Casterly Rock and you will find a husband, Loras Tyrell is suitable, Lady Olenna and Margery are good people, one of the few in Westeros." _

"_My answer remains no, Casterly Rock is my home," Jamie said I was welcome to stay, I don't—" _

"_Cersei!" Tywin steadies himself, "you will do as I instruct and put the needs of your houses first. What is wrong with my children? A Kingslayer for a son, a daughter whom won't marry, and an imp." Tywin cracks a slight grin at the last one imagining Tyrion's waddling. _

_Cersei sits in a huff suppressing tears, the thought of Jamie and her's separation plagues her mind constantly. She wonders as they depart if their lives would be better without their father—" _

"_You're going to be alright Tyrion." Jamie says wrapping the blanket tighter around Tyrion. "I'll lead the wagon, just give me a moment..." Tyrion stares blankly at the wine cup shaking in his hands having Jamie assist a gulp. "Stay put Tyrion." _

"_I'm going to kill him," Tyrion croaks before the Kingslayer shut the door as he faces his brother, "I don't know when, I don't know how, but I'm going to do it," Tyrion releases a shallow hollowed laugh, "just wait, a Lannister always pays his debts." He holds a whimper choking back sobs. _

"_Okay stop, don't talk crazy about father, without him our house will fall apart and you'll be hung or sent to the Night's Watch." Jamie shakes his head placing a hand on a brow, "I never meant to hurt you Tyrion." Having lost his brother's attention he trotts into the forest finding the Lannister soldiers laughing around Valeria near a fire. Her hands bound above her are tightened around a tree, her body bloody and naked. Jamie swings a dagger overhead piercing the blade through the older soldier's heart. _

"_Ser Jamie what are you—" _

_Jamie chokeholds the soldier slitting his jugular holding the squirting wound open throwing him to the ground. He brushes stray hair off Valeria's face smiling at how peaceful she looks, her mind was on Tyrion until the end. Jamie cuts her down burying the bodies in a nearby ditch arriving back at the road. _

_Jamie pauses hearing wailing originating our the wagon where Tyrion was crying his life away. His breathing is erratic, he hobbles staggering falling to a knee, the world spins darkening around him. Jamie sobs clutching at his chest knowing he hurt one of the few people he loved dearly. He falls to his knees releasing a wail placing a hand over his eyes—This brought him more shame than killing the mad king, he'd stolen his brother's innocent dreams and delicate love, he would never be the same. Aside from Cersei, Tyrion is all he has to love in this world. Jamie rolls on his back sobbing louder staring up at the North Star placing a hand over his mouth, "forgive me little brother..." _

—

_**XXX**_

—

_**A/N: Next time- Daenerys, Greyworm, and Daario are caught up to current events. Jon and Yara make a crucial decision about Euron's fate. Foreigners living in isolations for thousands of years opening trade every few centuries pays a visit to King's Landing on the Convocation's eve. Life's good, as always thanks for the read. **_


	9. Poetic Justice

Mereen's roads stretch around Dragon's bay as citizens from surrounding cities southwest of Meereen witness their queen return after a month long absence. The chatter about an imposter taking the queen's place silenced the moment Drogon flew over their heads ascending into Meereen's skyline roaring hellfire at the temple peak. The Targaryen's pet stood for centuries representing to the world their bloodlines ties to fire and blood. The dragon is the last of its kind becoming Daenerys's protector never to let anyone, even a Targaryen stand beside her again. Drogon guards the temple day and night as his queen's health remains questionable willing to put his own needs aside to attend to his mothers. Daenerys hasn't left the temple grounds in weeks requesting to be left to her own devices for a majority of the day. The only time she is seen by citizens ranging all over south east Essos is during the day when a period of time is set aside listening mostly to day farmers and trader merchants formally discussing their needs.

People are exuberant having their liberator queen in her rightful place calling Westeros an uncultured shithole. Daario isn't the best leader nonchalantly dismissing most too bored or preoccupied with thoughts of Daenerys. In the former sellsword's view queen regent duties are insignificant compared to the obligations as the new General-Captain over the Second Sons and Golden Company. The two factions combined into one resurrecting both armies in order to protect Daenerys alongside Drogon.

Daario sits with his two lieutenants in a tavern located in the heart of Meereen showing them a map of the area drawing lines along the edges guarding every corner of the city. "We attack high and from the north. The south is secure due to our navy forces stationed there. Should they decide to come from the direction of Yunkai Astopor or Braavos. Myr and Volantis are the only cities who accepted a parlay trading supplies." In truth he couldn't care less about the city or people all that much. He cares about his love Daenerys. It was destined she leave Essos to conquer Westeros. The same plan had been in place since before he was hired under service. He refused to believe what happened to Daenerys. She was the best leader and hope for a better world and got murdered in exchange. His biggest regret was not disobeying her order for him to stay queen regent. The more it crosses his mind the more he's convinced he's becoming Jorah Mormont.

"All due respect sir we haven't responded to the Iron Bank's proposition. They're trying to buy out a contract for ten years of service." Hobbrik the second company lieutenant says.

"Fuck the Iron Bank we don't have to give them a response. Next order of business." Daario replies.

The third lieutenant Bernard splinters the wooden cup smashing it on the table. "Gods be damned captain we need that contract. Meereen's treasury is in the bottom half of the free cities' economy. This place would be a graveyard had the mother of dragons not returned to us. We need gold captain." He says.

"I agree. Gold buys soldiers loyalty. We need payment something the crown can't give at the moment." Hobbrik says signaling another round of drinks for their table.

Daario's focus remains on the map placed in front of the company. "You guys didn't think I'd forgotten we're mercenaries first. Illorio Payne is on his way here. The lard ass wants to meet with our queen for one reason."

The queen will never accept a marriage proposal at this time." Hobbrik states.

"If it was marriage the bastard was after I would've never accepted money be damned. He wants her dragon in exchange for ten thousand mercenaries." Daario says folding his arms taking another full cup, "he can't really believe our queen will accept. Makes me wonder what he's really after or whose he's really working for."

"Could be Meereen captain. Think that bastard would be smart enough to try taking over the city?"

"No. But there's no telling what ulterior motive he's hiding. Whatever it is that fuckers going to have to do a lot of talking before he gets anywhere near my queen." Daario twirls his favorite dagger between fingers recalling the first time he met Daenerys. Funny thing, after all these years he always envisioned meeting the woman carved onto its hilt claiming 'she looks the finest bitch in the world.' Now all he can see is Daenerys; her pale blonde hair intricately braided differently each day flowing over breasts.

"General!" Gilroy half hand rumbles through the door drenched in sweat telling another soldier to 'fuck off' for trying to hand him a cup on his bad hand. "Cunt." He snaps at the younger soldier guzzling the cup contents.

"You better have good reason to be here." Daario sheathes the dagger leaning a forearm over the table. "I placed you in charge of guarding the coast so tell me why the fuck you're here?"

Gilroy shakes the split beer off resembling a shivering hound. "Aye its a good reason general. Commander Greyworm's ship has been spotted a few miles off shore."

Daario is out of his seat in Gilroy's face in an instant. "Are you sure?"

"It's him. You can spot the cockless Unsullied from miles."

Daario punches half hand in the nose stumbling him. "What the hell was that for? Insulting the Unsullied?"

"No what you said is by all accounts true. That was for leaving your post without permission." He says striding into the streets trailed by the second and third lieutenients.

Greyworm sits in the captain's quarters on the Unsullied ship having spent months at sea. He is more tired than he's ever been something never afforded coming up as a leader of men. His gaze always diligent fierce and steady. Enemies biggest mistake would be assuming because they were nurtured at birth it made them docile. If he was in the mood he'd laugh at the thought the Unsullied swept through Westerosi armies with ease. They aren't knights. Knights fight for themselves, Unsullied fight for each other. In hindsight Casterly Rock was a big fucking mistake. The woman who beheaded his love was Tyrion Lannister's sister who was their hand at the time. If he'd known any better he should've cut the dwarfs cock off shoving it down his throat to shut him up. Seeing Tyrion stand with the opposition after the northern bastard killed his queen made the thought tempting. Yet he couldn't die in the shit hole they called "King's Landing." One couldn't understand the city's significance aside from the Iron Throne. He understood Daenerys's conquest to reclaim what was rightfully stolen from her family. However the people of Westeros needed to die in his eyes. They're nothing but toxic worms graveling in the dirt hoping, praying the rainstorm will pass. 'Weak.' Something nonexistent in Essos. The weak are stretched out and tossed in the desert, only the strong survive in his birth country. 'Fucking politics.'

Greyworm sighs rubbing a temple wishing to never have stepped foot into that fucking cesspool of a country. He runs a gloved hand along a small silver butterfly pin Missandei had given him the night they shared their first. He glances at quill and paper recalling he is currently writing a memoir in remembrance of the only woman he'd come to love in his traumatic life. All he was ever is to fight until there are no more enemies between his army and their objective. He isn't sure who the enemies are now, he supposes they're everywhere. Then again it doesn't matter nothing really does anymore without Daenerys and Missandei, his world is emptying—There's only duty no love."

"_Missandei." Greyworm says her name unlike any other. He's been staring at her too long to go unnoticed. She turns smiling warmly tucking curls behind an ear unable to stop her grin. _

"_Yes Greyworm." She replies. Her native Naath accent had him hooked since they'd first met. He could hardly believe she's the same woman who announced Daenerys's many titles and claims standing fiercely beside their queen. Its moments like this he will always cherish witnessing her unmatched beauty in his eyes. _

_The Unsullied leader nods at a passing regiment remembering they're sailing to Dragonstone and have to keep things cordial. How long can they keep the feelings bottled up since their initial meeting till the two times they made love at Winterfell. He can't help cracking a smile left alone on deck like two kids causing mischief. Missandei never experienced freedom found the next best thing in someone she related to. It was all thanks to Daenerys, without her their meeting would've been a fallacy. Their queen who they served loyally gave them a legitimate chance at love. "How are you doing?" He feels a fool the moment those words are spoken. The hardened soldier can't recall him ever asking that of anyone before. _

_Missandei chuckles softly surprising him as she places fingertips over her lips. Greyworm pulls her by the waist stealing one. They place their foreheads together. "I'm certainly better after that just now." She says playfully stepping out the embrace as his attention shifts noticing soldiers ascend the stair. "How are you doing?" She asks placing a hand on his face tracing a hand on his face tracing left over scars from the battle against the Night King and the army of the dead. _

_He holds her hands in place embracing the warmth, "will you teach me how to write?" He asks. _

_Missandei smiles stepping to the railing placing hands behind her back. "What do you plan on using it for? Is there someone you want to write I don't know about." _

_Greyworm smirks placing hands behind back closing the distance. "I assure you there is no one who occupies my mind quite like you Missandei." The Queen's emissary and confidant bows slightly hiding a heat swelling her cheek bones. "I'm not sure why I want to write. "Greyworm leans on the railing staring out at the open ocean far as they could see. Missandei stands beside him glaring in the same direction spotting fins rolling past waves. "I've been fighting my whole life. It's all anyone said I could ever do—"_

"_Greyworm you're more than a soldier." _

"_No Missandei," he faces her releasing a sigh once more thrown by her beauty grazing a curl tenderly. "But I want to be more than a soldier. For the first time I want to be more than what I am." _

_Missandei holds a hand to a breast unsure if her lungs are functioning properly. "You never had to ask, I would be happy to teach you." Greyworm and Missandei stroll the Targaryen mothership carrying the queen's advisors. The pair glance overhead noticing Dragonstone in the distance as Daenerys emerges out the clouds riding atop Drogon. The small council gather as Rhegal soars circles around looking paler than usual. _

_Daenerys flies high in the sky feeling success within her grasp, Cersei will fall when the northern army reaches King's Landing aiding the siege of the city. A feeling encompasses Dany as Drogon growls soaring through the air speeding ahead of his brother. Daenerys smiles warmly noting Rhegal's discoloration since separating from Jon a few nights prior. Her worry always lies with her children, the Iron Throne is hers to lose since her recently revealed half brother has no desire for it. Rhegal howls as a two meter metal tipped spear his chest as a second clips Rhegal's throat sending him crashing into the sea. _

_Greyworm Missandei Tyrion and Varys witness crow eyes fleet before Daenerys as Euron appears alongside Harry Strickland and his Golden Company regiment. "To your posts!" Greyworm shouts throwing on his glided steel helmet. "Adjust the sails! Aim cannons, fire!" The Unsullied ships follow their commander's orders maneuvering to the port side returning flaming arrows. _

_Daenerys notices the fleet her mind is preoccupied with the death of another son hoping Rhegal will reappear from the depths unscathed. Now all that's left is Drogon, her eldest son who'd been through it all. Unlike Viscerion's death sadness and mourning is replaced by anger and vengeance. She feels Drogon's anger as he soars right evading a spear without her command, she needs to focus but the overwhelming anger is suffocating. Daenerys shouts every frustration out since arriving in Westeros pulling on Drogon's spine evading another spear as she soars toward Greyjoy and Strickland. Harry and two soldiers reload the scorpion at the pair speed lining their position. Daenerys yanks Drogon veering him away as the mobile scorpion fires missing its target wide left—She lost her second son today she isn't losing her last. _

_Greyworm heaves throwing a shield noticing Daenerys fly in Dragonstone's direction giving him the signal to retreat. His forces are exceptional warriors on land on the seas they are no match for the Greyjoy fleet in their current positions especially with aid from the Golden Company. "Retreat! Retreat to Dragonst—" Greyworm halts rolling out the way of the main mast crashing through the vessel bridge as the sails catch fire. "Abandon ship! Abandon ship!" Greyworm yanks soldiers forcefully from their posts dragging them toward the railing. Greyworm dives after the timbering front mast seeing it descend toward Tyrion. _

_Greyworm trotts out the water having saved Tyrion and Vary's lives as the pair circulated oxygen through their lungs. His legs nearly give way realizing they are missing someone, the most important person to him at the moment. Once again his soldier instincts kicked in leaving him unaware of everything except killing the enemy. His lungs burn nearly having drowned yet he only cares for one thing, "Missandei!" He shouts echoing across the beach stepping past a coughing Varys and heaving Tyrion. "Missandei!" He freezes surveying the beach bowing his head, for the first time in life he's failed. _

"_What should I do Greyworm? I want what's good. Its what she would've wanted." Daenerys says holding Missandei's collar for him to see. _

_Greyworm snatches the collar tossing it into the fire. 'Fuck them. Fuck Westeros. Remember Missandei's last word.' He wants to say. If it were anyone else he would have, Daenerys knows she's always known. Missandei was the purest out of them all and they executed her mercilessly, their fate should be the same. _

_Daenerys returns his stare reassured Greyworm will stand beside her until the end. 'Dracarus.' _

Greyworm combs a hand through his beard realizing somewhere along the way he failed a second time allowing his queen to be assassinated and the men responsible get away without punishment. He wouldn't just be satisfied killing Tyrion Lannister placing a head on his spike. At least he respected the dwarf in some capacity as the queen's hand. Its Winterfell's bastard he wants to personally torture and kill the man if they cross paths again. He sighs placing the memoir in the nearest drawer unable to collect coherent thoughts.

"Commander."

Greyworm furrows brows not hearing the knocks at the door, "what is it Hamon?" He rasps placing hands over his face unable to escape his thoughts of Daenerys and Missandei.

"General Nahaaris and the seconds sons are awaiting our arrival at the harbor." Greyworm nods finding his battle scarred armor and long spear tucked together in the cabin's corner having been unused since leaving Westeros. Their journey to Naath delivering Missandei's body to a nearby isle off shore. The island of Naath itself is inhabited by poisonous butterflies harmless to the native Naath populace. The moment he handed over Missandei's casket unable to give her a proper burial will haunt him. Perhaps he should've wrote that down. Greyworm leaves the captain's quarters unable to cope with the fresh losses any longer.

Daario Hobbrik and Benard await the Unsullied fleet passing Gilroy's checkpoint. Greyworm is first descending the ramp confronting Daario standing shoulder length. Greyworm returns the stare as they measure one another. Daario is first to break into a grin as Greyworm does the same shaking his hand. "Greyworm. Always good to see you old dog."

"I'm not old but I do look like I've aged." He says rubbing the beard as Daario does the same.

"You'll get used to it, eventually." Daario pats Greyworm's shoulder introducing his lieutenants to the Unsullied commander.

"Greyworm, heard quite a lot about you. I saw you fight once at Astaphor when the company sought to buy more warriors scouting you guys. That was many years ago I'm sure you've forgotten." Hobbrik says.

"I remember well actually we finished sealing a mountain pass earlier that morning. We were boys then barley able to fight efficiently with spear and shield. We were each given a dog on the first day of the year, at the end of it we had to strangle it. If we did not we'd be fed to the remaining mongrels."

Hobbrik shakes his head standing beside himself, "nothing like witnessing a teenager or kid so to speak devoured by a pack of hounds. At least with a lion or wolf you'll in most cases die within seconds. However dog canines are similar to ours its an unusual brutal, horrible way to go."

"Fuck you must've had a fucked up life. I mean we're mercenaries our lives are bad enough as it is; we're willing to die for currency. However you guys fight for a higher purpose than gold even when—" Benard shuts up receiving a glare from Daario. "Urm you know."

Greyworm nods, "its something that used to bother me until no end having our manhood the topic of conversation however as commander of Unsullied, words are meaningless." Greyworm taps the metal shield attached to his back showing the war tattered long spear's steel tip tucked neatly between the leather armor and shield. "Steel and blood are all that matters in my line of work." He says giving a slight smile. "Our lives aren't all shitty." Daario can't help smiling as well recalling how close Greyworm and Missandei were. His smile fades as he recalls hearing Greyworm was the only survivor from the queen's council.

"Give us a minute." Benard and Hobbrik share a nod heading to the city gates. "Greyworm there's something you need to know."

"Whatever it is I'm sure it can wait. My soldiers need rations we've had thirty two men die not receiving their daily fill."

"Daenerys is alive—"

Greyworm's expression brightens stepping in the direction of Meereen's palace. Daario halts the Unsullied commander latching onto an arm. The captain-general freezes himself noticing the fierce look in Greyworm's gaze. He removes the hold raising his arms, "the queen isn't feeling up for anyone at the moment. There will be time to see her, for now lets get you and your forces fed and reintegrated into the city's defense. The watch here are shit they need all the aid your army can offer." Greyworm nods rejuvenated the queen is alive, for the first time he feels hope.

Daario and Greyworm pass through citizens chattering freely: Former slave masters slaves mercenaries sell swords and wealthy land owners stroll under the starry sky pointing to Drogon draped over the temple's peak laying dormant. Greyworm halts a moment taking in the sight there isn't any doubt anymore. Hobbrik and Benard appear through the orderly crowds. "Commander Lord Illorio Payne is waiting for you." The latter speaks.

"We were informed minutes earlier by the gatekeepers he and small garrison of twenty three soldiers are waiting for your arrival at the fighters pit." Hobbrik adds. Daario halts, "then there isn't any time to waste. Greyworm would you mind coming along? I could use your help."

Greyworm stands beside the trio, "fill me in on the way. I'll extend my help as best I can lead the way general."

"Good." Daario says expecting no less from the battle hardened soldier leading the others to his favorite spot in Meereen to spend the company's idle time.

The Meereenese shuffle exuberantly out of vendor booths taverns brothels and restaurants in awe of the Unsullied forces marching within their formation. The gang of street orphans run through a nearby alleyway stopping outside the citizens lining the pavement roads. They can only stare in awe wishing to become an Unsullied one day climbing atop nearby buildings for a better viewing.

The Golden Company regiments greet the Unsullied forces handing out food rations to the starved soldiers welcoming them home to Meereen with open arms. Greyworm and Daario lead the march veering to the quieter parts of the Meereen's marketplace. The gladiators standing outside ceased their arguing seeing the four commanders.

"General Daario." Griffin says shaking the sellswords first quickly moving onto Greyworm. "Well I'll be damned your back. Hey shitheads commander Greyworm is back." The others clamor around unbelieving the Unsullied Commander emerged realitively unscathed from the rumored Long Night in Winterfell to Kings Landing's destruction.

The pair push past the warriors questioning them as they push open the double doors finding Illario Payne sitting in the fighters pit. The lord of cheese munches on an entire turkey in one hand ripping off a leg waving it wildly. "Fight to the deaths you scoundrel dogs! Twenty pieces of silver to the man whose the first to decapitate his opponent."

Illario Payne pushes a guard as a warrior pierces his opponents side sending him on a knee. "Finish it, then your reward as promised." He says dangling the bag of silver provoking the fighter as he prepares to seal the fatal blow.

"Cesar." Daario appears halting everyone in the room. The gladiators chatter amongst themselves noticing Greyworm within the Golden Company ranks. "You know thirty five pieces of silver is the minimum for an execution. Go on don't let us stop you, carry on." He says dismissing the gladiators to their regular schedule.

"You showed up wasn't expecting you to soil my parade so early." Illorio says throwing aside the turkey leg chomping into its whole body tearing through a quarter in a single bite. "How much will cost me to start a fighting tournament in Meereen's grand arena?"

"Far too expensive for a cheapskate like you." Daario says taking the nearest seat. "Not to be rude but what makes you think our queen wants to meet with you?"

Illario laughs knocking a food tray over, "have you seen the army camped outside general? Ten thousands sellswords at the ready eager to conquer Westeros. Something the Unsullied failed to."

The Unsullied commander steps forward making his presence known. "I don't recall us being defeated by a Westerosi army. Knights in Westeros have strong armor and a piercing blade. However they're slow footed narrow minded and disorganized. Though they do fight with honor, mostly." Greyworm smirks remembering a scarred warrior going by 'The Hound.' Always spewing that 'he wasn't a knight.' Spitting in the face of Westerosi tradition to the point of being admirable. Perhaps Westeros possessed strong fighters on second thought. He is certain Jon Snow wouldn't stand a chance against his superior tactics mixed with a varied spear play. In order to beat an Unsullied warrior in single combat it requires you to be well versed in their tendencies. Something only Jamie Lannister seemed remotely familiar with during their brief discussions in Winterfell, a conversation he had previously with Oberyn Martell. He remembers Tyrion remarking the Unsullied aren't better overall fighters than any Westerosi army. Its superior albeit unfamiliar tactics that win them a majority of their battles—Greyworm vehemently disagrees with this assertion claiming it Westerosi bias. "I will be more than willing providing a private demonstration on what us Unsullied do to our prisoners." Illario's personal militia place hands at their sword hilts approaching Greyworm. "I'm disappointed Lord Payne if you're going to kill me you're going to need many more bodyguards."

Illario bites into another full chicken waving his personal militia off. "No I've got more important matters need tending. The dragon queen will accept my offer when it comes down to it."

"What makes you think our queen is going to accept your offer."

Illario laughs rubbing his belly swinging a sandaled foot. "She'll accept. I'm the only supplier on the market willing to give ten thousand troops at the ready." The fat man bellows a laugh tossing the chicken carcass aside. "Why go through all the trouble begging the Iron Bank for a fraction of the troops and paying back interest in double interest rates."

Daario glances at Greyworm coming to the same conclusion. "If you don't mind telling us, who was your original intended buyer. I assume you changed your mind when you found out our queen is in fact alive and commands the last dragon."

Illario grins at the Unsullied commander. "My original buyer was the crown, King's Landing. However Westeros can't offer me anything more than what my inventory is worth. I don't give a donkeys shit about wars politics or who fights in them. I'm an arms dealer, think me as a mercenary. To the highest bidder goes the spoils."

Daario shakes his head pouring a wine cup handing it to the lord. "I've seen the bond our queen has with her dragons. Their not pets but they're not untamable beasts, they're her children."

Illario chuckles, "children must separate from their parents eventually its part of life. Besides with ten thousand additional troops you'll be unmatched in Essos. All those free cities plotting Daenerys Targaryen's assassination will cease to exist. I'm willing to give her the same power she had before her departure in Westeros."

"Alright we'll take you to the queen." Daario says leading the others to Meereen's palace.

—-

**XXX**

—**-**

Daenerys sits on the elevated seat in Meereen temple's throne room taking any appointments unscheduled through the day. Citizens range from poor to wealthy asking for loans land or food supply around the providence. "I apologize not being able to accommodate your family for the loss of crops. You're not the first person to come here requesting food."

The farmer bows, "its quite alright there is no need to apologize my queen. If anything I should beg forgiveness even asking this of—"

"Its quite alright," Daenerys smiles slightly glancing at Kinvara standing at her side. "I may have a short term solution that can work in both our favors." The farmer glances up curious at the queen's proposition stepping to the edge of the stone stair. "Move your family and business here. Your case unfortunately isn't an isolated one." Daenerys stands from her seat rotating the silver dragon ring wrapped around a finger. "Although there are famines and droughts plaguing the free cities. Meereen is fortunate enough to reside where there's limitless supply of food." Daenerys sighs facing Kinvara once more. "However relocating citizens from their homes where they've lived all their lives doesn't sit well with me."

Kinvara smiles stepping toward Daenerys, "you will do what you think is best my queen. I don't fret too much in needs of others however I do recognize someone who does. Its as I said when you first awake you're reborn to make this world, your destiny is to lead the people against the darkness in the wars to come."

"Is this something your Lord of Light told you?" Daenerys asks.

"No. I can see it. You're the one who will free world casting light upon its shadows."

"Its as I told you before no more prophecies. My concern is with the people of Meereen and their needs. Anything else is arbitrary."

"I understand my queen. How is your son by the way?" He grows stronger by the day." Kinvara says as Daenerys retakes the throne placing a hand on her cheek.

"Not strong enough. This entire time I've been selfish. Drogon suffered the most throughout their time in Westeros. He lost two brothers and me. He was left alone until you brought me back, for that I can't thank you enough Kinvara."

The red priestess bows repressing a chuckle, "its no thanks to me. It's thanks to the Lord of Light."

Daenerys smirks, "I'm grateful for my resurrection though my stance on religion hasn't changed. How would you like to become the queen's hand?"

Kinvara unfolds her arms around her waist stepping away. "Your grace I'm deeply humbled by your offer however I cannot accept—"

"You're refusing your queen who your Lord of Light resurrected claiming to be the people's liberator?"

"That's true your grace. Red priestesses aren't politicians or strategists. We rely on belief and faith. There was another conquerer across the Narrow Sea Stannis Baratheon who fell victim having a red priestess beside him."

"I'm aware of it." Daenerys faces Kinvara holding palms in her lap, "will you ever betray me or my secrets to our enemies?" She asks.

Kinvara returns the stare stepping closer. "I am with you always my queen. From now until the end."

Daenerys lips curve into a warm smile. "Here. This belonged to my last hand who betrayed me for his family, I trust it'll serve you well." Kinvara takes the silver pin running a thumb over it offering another bow taking place beside Daenerys. The guards emerge out the adjacent corridors shutting the throne room double door signaling the end to her day.

"Hold the doors." Daario commands stepping through first followed by Illario and Greyworm. Daenerys's gaze lands on the Unsulled commander as he pushes through the guards staring up at his queen. "My queen," Daario says grabbing her attention, "this Illario Payne. He's traveled from Braavos to offer a proposition,"

Daenerys's gaze flickers to Greyworm once more finding her voice seeing the Cheesemonger lord. "You traveled a great distance my lord. What is it you've come to Meereen seeking?"

Illario laughs placing hands behind her back, "right down to business I love it. However I'd prefer to speak privately as opposed to having an audience."

"Very well." Daenerys dismisses the small council from the throne chamber granting Illario's request. "You must be of importance where you're from considering you were escorted by the commander of my armies."

Illario nods pacing the throne room floor, "its quite the army you have. Naharis is commanding the Second Sons Calvary and reformed sections of the Golden Company. As of moments ago the Unsulled returned along with its commander."

"You've told me things I'm aware of. Where are you going with all this Lord Payne?"

"Your forces aren't impressive your grace I'll give you that. Should you choose to allocate military resources in defending Meereen you're entirely capable of doing that. However my offer stands to conquer all your enemies in Essos and Westeros."

Daenerys leans forward curiously intrigued by the lord's offer after having no interest at the onset. "How much are you offering?"

"Ten thousands soldiers at the ready camped only miles outside Meereen's central gates."

Daenerys leans back astonished at the amount of forces gathered in one spot recalling traveling to Astaphor alongside Barriston Selmy and Jorah Mormont acquiring the Unsullied. "What do you want for it?"

"I want your dragon." Daenerys shifts slightly at the prospect of giving up her last remaining son. "Its a simple enough offer as it is. What good is fire breathing beast in a populated area such as this? Keep him here around people he's only going to end up causing harm to others around him."

Daenerys furrows her brows staring down the cheese lord. "What would you use a fully grown dragon for? They're untamable beasts who will destroy anything they so desire—Even you."

Illario holds his hands up, "it isn't like you're thinking your grace. I simply wanted a dragon I've dreamt of it as a boy. I want to travel the world: fly across Sothoryos. Travel far North beyond the wall where anyone has gone before—I want to be free as you are."

Daenerys represses a sarcastic laugh to not sound mad. "If you think I've experienced freedom in my life you're more of a fool than I expected." Daenerys stands descending the steps staggering Illario as he retreats. "I've been sold raped and survived numerous assassination attempts. All because of a throne my destiny was tied to believing it to be the only possession worth obtaining in this life. Now I am queen of Meereen once more and will not leave again." Daenerys stands shoulder length from Illario backing him down. "The only semblance of freedom I've ever received in my life is with Drogon. He is my son. I will not sell him to you for all the gold gathered in every corner of the world." Daenerys's eyes burn as Illario stumbles nearly tumbling over.

"Y-your grace, I strongly urge you to reconsider the offer. You can conquer the world—"

Daenerys turns away heading for the guards awaiting to the corridor leading to her private wing. "Leave the city by tommorow and take your army with you Lord Payne." Dothraki guards cross swords against Illario's neck silencing his protests as Daenerys exits the throne room.

Daario Greyworm and Kinvara await Illario's emergence as he's escorted by the guards to their position. "Based off you ending up here I'm assuming your offer was declined." Daario says ceasing the sharpening of his signature dagger.

"Aye it is as you claimed, the queen is wholly devoted to her dragon. She has no ambition to seek revenge on her enemies or conquer any lands—Perhaps she is an imposter."

"No she is our queen she loves the dragon as a child. You made the foolish endeavor asking a mother to betray her own for vengeance. Its time to leave the palace grounds Lord Payne." Greyworm says standing beside Daario and Kinvara.

Kinvara smiles placing hands together, "its as the Lord of Light has foretold—"

Illario perks up, "you saw me in your flames? Tell me what you've seen red woman!"

"You have no part to play in the wars to come the Lord does not waste his time with the likes of you."

"Crazy bitch." He spits watching her escorted into the palace.

"Shall we escort you to the front gates Lord Payne?" Daario asks.

"I know the bloody way ya damn sell sword cunts." Illario says waving them off leaving through the opening double doors. The queen's commanders trail Illario through the crowded streets unaware an owl flies overhead toward the desert.

"Everything checks out in the northeast sector?" A city watch guard asks.

"Yeah nothin there but a bunch of drunken dolts gambling away the last of their silver."

"Good everything on our end is—" The guard stumbles unable to utter a word as his throat is sliced. The younger guard turns to run receiving a trio of arrows to the back killing him instantly.

The assassins emerge out the shadows as the shorter of the two runs to a sewage manhole lifting the gate loose off the hinges. One by one warriors climb up spreading throughout the streets.

Greyworm Daario Benard Hobbrik and Illario turn from the city gate commission. "Sir! We got enemies approaching from the south, they're—" The city watch commander clutches the arrow piercing his throat falling from the wall's peak splattering on the ground. The commanders bark orders drawing their weapons as flaming arrows clip their archers sending them free falling off the wall.

Watchmen soldiers carry a large bar hauling it toward the gates sliding it over steel holders. Illario's forces run through the barrier shouting onward slashing guards standing in their path. Calvary riders hurl past the gates spreading about. "Where are our reinforcements?! Where are the rest of our army?!" Daario turns to Greyworm. "The underground tunnels! Do you—"

"On it." Greyworm spears an approaching pair of sellswords rallying nearby Unsullied sprinting into the heart of the city. Illario is assisted into a two horse carriage pursuing the Unsullied forces into the chaos.

"Commander!" Hobbrik shouts slicing through three grunts halting Daario's pursuit of Illario. "Our northern walls have been completely overrun they're constructing a mobile mechanism."

"How many?" Daario hurls a trio of poisonous daggers downing the horse riders.

"Two sir!" Bernard replies slashing a grunts sternum as more enemies charge through the gates.

Daario is on his horse staring at Meereen's temple. "I trust you both can handle it. Take a garrison of troops along with you, I'm going after Illario." Daario speeds past clashing warriors rising through the city siege.

Daenerys and Kinvara witness the northern wall and city breaches in the distance. Citizens flee running inside for safety while a few stay back defending their neighborhoods from the invaders. Meereen allies off the coast led by Gilroy half hand attack from the south halting the invaders forward progress. "Protect Drogon do not leave him no matter what happens."

Kinvara bows her head, "I cannot leave you your grace. As the queen's hand my place is—"

"Kinvara this is an order." Daenerys says meeting the red woman's gaze. "Go." Kinvara bows escorted by a small militia to Drogon's spot atop the temple. Daenerys notices Illario emerge out the siege's chaos heading toward her position.

Greyworm stomps on the manholes grate crushing a grunt's hands kicking the grate aside shoving his signature spear through an eye sockets sending him crashing on others below. Greyworm pulls out a red powder knapsack reaching for a nearby torch.

An invader tackles him from behind stabbing at the ground unable to hit the elusive Unsulled commander. Greyworm kicks the grunts head snapping his neck climbing to his feet grabbing the torch. Two warriors charge him as he sticks the fire into ones face blinding him settling the leather clothes ablaze.

The grunt knocks the torch into the sand extinguishing its flame. He punches Greyworm backing him down the Unsullied leader stumbles. Greyworm wipes blood from his chin blocking the enemy's strike punching him in nose disorienting him. Greyworm hoists the grunt high in the air slamming him through a table. He clutches at the large wood splinter through his neck bleeding out within seconds. Greyworm grabs the knapsack throwing it down the underground tunnel sending the invaders scrambling for cover recognizing it immediately. Not a moment later Greyworm kicks the burning man into the manhole setting the underground forces ablaze. Greyworm recovers his spear chucking it as an ambusher pinning him to the wall. The Unsullied incinerate the remaining manholes ensuring they wouldn't invade there again. Greyworm takes a nearby horse rallying the Unsullied toward the pyramid.

The pyramid doors are breached as soldiers charge slashing through the guards working their way toward Daenerys in her reserved wing of the palace. Illario glances around the carnage placing hands behind her back surveying his well executed plan. "Me lord the scorpion devices are in place, waiting your command sir."

"Give then the signal to fire when ready." Illario says trailing his personal guard into the palace. Daario slashes through the invaders meeting their forces coming in from the south. Gilroy leaps off a horse tackling a grunt stabbing him rapidly in the back giving the Second Son general an opening to pursue Illario. Two horse riders ambush Daario raising their swords as they fall to the dirt pierced by Greyworm's spear as he jumps off the stallion giving Daario a hand up.

"Get movin!" Gilroy yells decapitating a grunt kicking another away. "Should you let the queen fall this night I'll personally execute you!" Without a moments hesitation. Daario and Greyworm pursue Illario into the palace.

Kinvara approaches Drogon placing a hand on his scales earning a growl as the dragon settles unmoving from his position. The red priestess gazes over the city recognizing their dire situation they found themselves in. Kinvara steps closer hesitantly touching Drogon's snout. "You need to let go of your guilt," she says as Drogon stares at her, "your mother's death wasn't any fault of your own. However it will be this time if you don't act." Drogon shifts sending guards scrambling inside. "Your mother needs you now. Rise Drogon, your mother needs—" Drogon roars spitting flames into the night sky illuminating the pyramid for miles around.

Drogon flies into the night sky evading the scorpions projectiles shooting fire in the enemies direction. "No, he's leaving to the northern wall." Kinvara says staring at the reloading mobile weaponry. She halts noticing the scorpions roll to the walls edge tumbling to the ground below as two garrisons of troops holler at the successful ambush. Kinvara can't help smiling returning to Daenerys's side.

Illario and his troops slaughter the remaining private reverse guards marching to the mother of dragon's private solar. The cheese lord is first through the doors followed by his personal militia cornering Daenerys and Kinvara toward the outside patio overlooking Meereen. "No where left to run mother of dragons!" Illario says stepping to the table snatching a turkey leg.

"Does it look like I'm running. If I wanted to run I would've long before you would've arrived here."

Illario bites the leg snorting at the remark, "kill her." He steps away watching his warriors raise siege weapons approaching the pair. Daenerys places Kinvara behind her surprising the red priestess. Illario turns to the solar entrance as Greyworm and Daario slash past the first few guards forcing their way to Daenerys. Seeing his queen for the first time since that day in King's Landing Greyworm fights harder willing to protect her at any cost.

Illario pulls an archer to him pointing at the pair, "hurry up and shoot her!" He shouts glancing at the twenty remaining soldiers halting Daario and Greyworms path to their queen. The archer fumbles nocking the arrow firing it toward the queen and her hand. Daenerys shoves Kinvara aside evading the arrow falling to her knees. Illario pushes the archer toward the guards grabbing a crossbow aiming solely for Daenerys. The dragon queen wraps arm protectively around Kinvara telling her to go inside. She does as instructed as Illario keeps tracks of Daenerys noticing her back away toward the patio railing.

"Stay dead this time mother of dragons." Illario adjusts his aim as Daenerys stands atop the railing. The combatants halt hearing the crossbow fire and their queen missing. Greyworm stares at the patio nearly letting his grip slip from the long spear at his side, he failed Daenerys only able to catch a glimpse of her from afar.

Illario grins slinging the large crossbow over a shoulder, "its done then," he says turning to the silent room, "the city of Meereen is ours Daenerys Targaryen is —" A breeze flows through the room as his soldiers stumble away. Illario nearly tumbled over the table witnessing Daenerys atop Drogon staring directly at him.

Illario rumbles though the room past the guards knocking Greyworm aside as fire consumes the royal solar. Daario grabs Kinvara diving in the private booth while Illario's guards are incinerated. Greyworm slashes a guards throats using a glided steel shield to cover against the flames in the adjacent halls corner. He tossed the shield aside running after Illario unwilling to let him escape after the assassination attempt on Daenerys. Daario hops out the water pulling Kinvara along telling her to stay put before pursuing Greyworm's trail.

Illario sweats profusely barreling through the pyramid hearing Drogon roar shaking the palace to its core. He hunches over feeling the urge to vomit as the palace doors come into view. "Prepare my chariot! Man the scorpions!" He yells finding Second Sons Golden Company Unsullied in unison throwing their weapons in the dirt kneeling. "What are you fucking lot doing?! I'm in charge here!" Illario draws his sword climbing the palace stair receiving Greyworm's boot to his face sending him tumbling to the dirt below. Daario and Greyworm bar the palace doors as Drogon appears through the darkness fire flickers across his teeth lighting the darkness around.

Illario drops his blade kneeling as the others are begging for mercy. "Please spare me my queen. T-take my army! I-I have enough gold to make Meereen wealthy for years to come! I beg you let me keep my life!"

The spectators remain still a moment. Daenerys glares at the lord as he rises to his feet noticing Drogon's flames recede. Daenerys grips Drogon's spike meeting Illario's fearful gaze. "Dracarus." Fire consumes Illario as he screams burning to a crisp falling into the dirt. Daenerys's commanders open the pyramid doors witnessing the armies chant their queen's name watching her ascend to the sky. The duo quickly find the nearest horses riding for their queen leaving Meereen's city limits.

Daenerys glances over a shoulder smiling softly seeing Meereen's successful siege defense in spite of Illario's siege. She glances at the stars decorating the night feeling alive once more. Daenerys can't help grinning pulling on Drogon's spike flying faster through the air. Even if she remains dead to the world she is alive to her people and that's all that matters—Daenerys Targaryen lives again.

—

**XXX**

—

"What's got you in such a joyous mood lord captain?" Moqorro asks carving a miniature wood lion dusting off the shavings.

Euron grins staring up at the prison cell ceiling, "have you questioned your destiny Moqorro?"

Moqorro ceases the carving pondering crow eye's words. "No. I've always known my destiny is to serve the one true god Rhollor. Anything else besides fulfilling what the Lord of Light bestowed upon me in life is a waste of time."

Euron snorts spitting at the response. "Why serve a god when you can obtain the power to become one?" Moqorro resumes his carving examining every detail throughly. Euron grunts placing hands behind his head, "up until days ago I began questioning my own purpose. I didn't understand why death would never accept me. For all I've done I will gladly burn in the lowest pit of hell. Its funny," he glances at the wizard placing the recent carving next to several others resembling creatures he encountered in the world throughout his life. "I recall sometime after my exile from the Iron Islands I couldn't stand sailing, something the Ironborn take pride in until their death. It wasn't until my own crew tied me to front mast for a week starving me out. I couldn't even escape in madness during that time. The moment I was cut free my crew's tongues were removed. Then and there I figured to rekindle my love of sailing. It worked for a time. I got to fuck a queen-kill a dragon-and slaughter good ol' Kingslayer during the capital's destruction. After you healed my wound wizard, I felt empty and the madness returning. Then one moment changed it all." Moqorro halts work on a dragon wing glancing at his lord captain's grin. "Its as if the layers of my past had been stripped away clashing with the resurrected wolf. Any warrior who defeated that fool Victarion is a force to be reckoned with. I thought my destiny would be fulfilled reclaiming this shithole place I called a home once—Now I have a new purpose."

"You plan to kill the dragon masquerading as a wolf? I surmise had you wanted you'd have done it already."

"No killing him right away is too good for this one. He is honorable-he holds things dear-I want to take all of that away watching him go mad as his aunt did, as most recent Targaryens have. Once I break his spirit then and only then will I grant the ranger death." Moqorro meets Euron's gaze noting his eyes gleaming through the darkness resembling a demon.

Moqorro smirks cutting the head off the dragon as the knife breaks in two. "Although my purpose being on divine grounds I'd be more than willing to assists yours lord captain." He says offering a nod in Euron's direction. The main dungeon doors swing open revealing the dusky woman escorted by the jailer and two guards illuminating the dark using torches earning shouts and howls from the other prisoners.

"Don't take long woman do what whatever you have to. Queen Yara says no visitors allowed but we made an exception for the stash of coin." The jailer disappears as the dusky woman approaches the cell escorted by two guards as one of them opens Euron's cell locking it behind her.

Euron sits up rattling the chains linking arms behind him barring his feet shoulder width apart. "You miss me huh? Come to get fucked whore?" He stands off the cot unable to proceed due to the chains hooked along the cell walls. She unties her wool shirt slowly exposing a breast earning a grin Euron as he retakes a seat. "Well whatcha waitin for bitch? Ain't got all night. Y'know I saw this comin, you served your purpose using my brother as I'd instructed—Nothing but a traitorous whore." The brunette reveals a dagger lunging at Euron as he springboards off the cot wrapping leg chains around her neck wrestling to the ground. Euron growls feeling the knife plunge in a calf rolling the dusky woman on her back sending her dagger careening off the stone floor clanging against the nearest cell bars.

The dusky woman presses the wound loosening Euron's hold crawling for the dagger clutching the blade. Moqorro snatches it away cutting her hand whistling nonchalantly resuming his carvings. She climbs to her feet noticing a crawl space at the cell door entrance. Euron jumps twisting the foot chain around her throat pulling her off her feet onto the floor. She gasps unable to scream attempting to gravel toward the small opening underneath the prison cell. Seeing her intention Euron pulls tight snapping her neck in one motion rendering her motionless.

Euron scoots over to a square wooden plank moving it aside with a foot revealing more than a two hundred meter drop into the sea. He kicks the dusky woman's corpse through the hole sealing it back up as the guards reappear stopping outside his cell. "Where did the woman run off to?"

Euron leans against the wall half shrugging reminding the guards of his steel cuffs and chains. "Must've scampered off, the whore got what she came for." Without another word they leave the dungeon returning to their post.

Jon and Yara ascend the great stairs leading to Castle Pyke returning from Lordsport meeting with their armies for several hours. "I'm thrilled we could agree to terms Lord Snow negotiations went smoother than expected."

"I agree your grace. The Night's Watch are in need of recruits now more than ever before. I'm just glad you needed what we can spare, cedar is plentiful up north."

"Aye I can only imagine should we decide to build more ships you're the first one I'll ask for assistance." Yara says offering a smile as they halt outside the fortress gates. "Though you told me your watch are still in need of steel, apologies we couldn't provide it you."

Jon nods, "don't trouble yourself over it you've done enough. I suppose when I return I'll have to travel south to find a kingdom willing to supply it."

"I'm sure you will Lord Snow." She resumes their walk noticing the gates open leading Jon to the council chambers. "Now I suppose it's time I help you for all you've done stopping Euron's invasion." Yara places a hand on the map residing over the round table. "I need you to tell me exactly where you think Arya Stark was sailing."

Jon unrolls the map in his satchel showing it to Yara as she scans over it shaking her head after a few minutes of contemplation. "This is wrong."

"What do you mean?"

Yara meets Jon's gaze, "I'm saying this chart you've drawn detailing her course is wrong. No one can sail this trajectory and survive."

"You don't know that." Jon says stepping to the table. "You don't know Arya like I do she is strong. She can handle anything thrown her way—"

"Not this. Sailing out west is a death sentence. There's a reason why no one has done it all the centuries since we've set out to sea. Trust me Lord Snow, you know battles sure but you have no idea what the seas like. Not like I do."

Jon glances out the window meeting Yara's gaze "alright then. Tell me what should we do."

Yara draws lines east across the narrow sea over Essos stopping near Volantis. "We should start looking here then if there is no sign of her we can continue our journey into Qarth."

"There's no time for any of that. I told you your grace you don't know my sister like I do. When she says she's going to do something she does it."

Yara sighs, "Lord Snow you don't seem to understand. If Arya really sailed west then she's already dead." Jon nods collecting the items on the table heading off to sail immediately realizing he is wasting his time.

"Where are you going Lord Snow?"

"I'm grateful for your help your grace. I know Arya isn't dead like you and everyone else keeps saying she is. I'm going to find her and bring her home even if I have to do it alone."

"Wait Lord Snow—" Yara says halting his hand on the door as he shuts it facing her once more, "there is only one person I know of whose sailed west and lived to tell about it."

Euron and Moqorro climb to attention seeing Jon and Yara placing torches above illuminating the dungeon. "Well if it ain't my pretty lil niece and the queenslayer himself. To what does a prisoner such as myself have to offer you two?" He grins turning to Yara, "come to give your uncle a kiss?"

Jon glances at Yara who nods allowing him to interrogate as she steps away. "This sword in your possession, widow's wail. Last I saw it in the hand of Jamie Lannister during the Long Night. Its no mystery how you came to obtain it." Jon reaches behind him while Yara does the same. He tosses the black and red Targaryen armor against the stone floor as she clutches the dragon horn irking Moqorro. "Where did you find these?"

"You really don't know? You're a Targaryen all those were found on Valyria. Ol' Targaryens had it nice before their doom—"

"Aye I heard the story a thousand times. Its one of the northerners favorite tales to tell to pass the time. Its understandable why you'd want these Valyrian items, any sane person couldn't resist a find like these." Jon moves over to Moqorro's cell pointing to the dragon horn, "tell me about this."

Moqorro scoffs leaning against the wall, "theres nothing to tell. Its no use to you."

"You killed three of Victorian's men trying to prevent them from ridding it. I was told it holds power to bind dragons to blower's will." Moqorro remains silent as Jon sighs realizing he wasn't getting anymore unless he reveals information in turn. "Far north beyond the wall my team and I found a winter horn said to be able to break the walls magic bringing the wall crashing down."

Moqorro is on his feet grasping the cell bars as Euron listens intently. "Then my flames were once again correct. A second horn exists in the world marvelous." The wizard settles on his cot grinning.

"Sure you want to be telling enemies your secrets?" Yara asks pulling Jon aside glancing at the prisoners.

"The horn is in better hands than mine." Jon turns to Moqorro who eagerly carves a direwolf. "Its your turn. I told you about the horn of winter now tell me about this."

Moqorro smirks glancing at the horn resting in Yara's hands continuing his work. "Its remarkable should I say so myself. The same magic used to construct the wall walkers and winter horn. This one was created to draw every dragon in the world to a single location. No matter where the chosen user resides dragons will not resist the call. The horn also holds a prerequisite before a use; it needs pure Targaryen blood to work. So I'm afraid you are not worthy to bind every dragon to your will Stark."

Jon crosses arms glancing at Yara, "what about Pyat Pree? What does a warlock who escaped death in Essos have to do with all this."

Moqorro bellows a laugh, "now that I cannot disclose Stark—"

"Will you cut the mystery shit out Moqorro its no use keeping it undisclosed already told em. The warlock is related to someone who's in possession of the last dragon eggs. The relative resides far east Essos farther than most willing to travel even for dragons."

"Yeah well you two are shit out of luck the only person who can birth dragons is dead."

Euron and Moqorro share a glance. "Do you accept the lord of light as the one true god Stark?"

"No I follow the old gods."

"You deny the lord when he granted you another life?"

"Fuck the religious sermon get on with it." Euron interjects.

"After the previous lord captain and I sailed from Skahazadam we found those Valyrian artifacts. I saw millions burning in King's Landing and foresaw her death at the hands of a dragon masquerading as a wolf." Moqorro glances at Jon then to Euron. "After healing Euron's wounds I was surprised as the fire spoke to me." Moqorro recalls the armies camped out at the edge of the Riverlands releasing captured lions unable to feed them as Daenerys appeared in the flames waking from her slumber. "Westeros hasn't a clue the mother of dragons is alive, and I'm assuming you don't."

Jon exhales stepping away from the torch light, "I don't believe you."

"And what of your belief Stark? You were resurrected by Rhollor yet refused to believe the same about Daenerys Targaryen."

Silence fills the fortress prison as Jon re-emerges from the shadows. "It doesn't matter." He says walking in front of Euron's cell glaring at crow eye. "I need your help."

Euron nods, "then gladly take these chains off I'll cut you limb from limb."

"Should you help me we'll fight to the death of that's what you want."

Euron squints noticing Yara pull out a map with a drawn course. "What am I looking at? This is horseshit you're telling me someone sailed west to Essos." Euron laughs causing Moqorro and the other prisoners to join in. "Didn't anyone ever tell you its fucking suicide trying to cross the Sunset Sea. You'll be more than lucky making it little more than halfway before the storms waves whirlpools or sea creatures get you. Even if you manage to weave through all of that there's hundreds if not thousands of currents that can potentially carry your ship into the vast seas. Plenty abandoned ships roam the western sea still following the same current doomed forever to stay on it. Starting to get an idea ranger? What you're trying to do, whoever you're after is as good as dead."

"Everyone keeps telling me that. I'm not giving up, you've sailed west before."

"And I don't plan on doing it again. I lost an entire Armada pursuing an enemy thinking it would catch em off guard. All the gold under the moon couldn't make me sail west again."

Jon places hands on sides recognizing his real chances of finding Arya are slipping away. "You help me find who I'm looking for, the dragon eggs are yours." He says glancing at the wizard, "but I need to sail west here." Jon points to their intended destination earning grins from both prisoners.

"The land where magic originated from. How I long to return to the city that stood when the world was born." Moqorro says.

"The shadow lands huh? You're planning to go to Asshai?" Euron folds arms leaning against the wall, "why the fuck would the person you're searching for go to that place? You think Westeros is cruel to outsiders don't let those fuckers catch you. They'll not only torture you, they're known for experimenting on prisoners. I read Maester Qyburn's notes out of boredom while the queen was attending to business. Necromancy originated in Asshai well before Westeros was established. The citadel reject was sadistic though knew his way around their science, still it isn't anything compared to what you'll see there."

Jon crosses arms stepping closer to the cell staring at Euron, "you've traveled there?"

Euron nods in Moqorro's direction, "ask the wizard he lived there for years, anything else you want to know about that hellhole ask him."

"Asshai is a place that buys adults in a slave trade market placing each of their citizens in a ritualistic ceremony initiating them into their own culture." Moqorro runs cuffed hands along his face tracing the tattoos decorating his face since being integrated in their society. If one wanted to truly become a devout servant to Rhollor a pilgrimage to Asshai is required. Every servant learns of the lords blessings in this world. Dragons White Walkers Ice Spiders—" Moqorro ceases carving placing the direwolf next to the others, "answers about the ancient world lies there however you're only seeking to find someone close to you. In my time in Asshai I've watched many such as you full of hope walk into the city only to never return the same. Citadel maesters, traders or simply curious visitors end up the same way—You Stark will suffer the same fate should you travel there."

"I'm skeptical its worse than what I've faced beyond the wall." Jon paces to Moqorro's cell, "you mentioned they purchase adults in the Essos slave trade; I'm guessing during the initiation ritual you're stripped of your right to bear children."

Moqorro smirks sitting up staring up at the ranger, "if you're implying I'm a Eunuch, I take great offense to that claim. However yes, Asshai leadership deemed children born will be sacrificed or drowned in the nearby ash river."

"Why do they do this?" Yara asks circling to the other side, "not even pirates roaming the summer seas are that ruthless."

"You misunderstood your grace. To Asshai children are inherently seen as dangerous. For example take a child growing up here on the Iron Islands. During their life they'll eventually begin asking questions pushing the boundaries to make life more pleasant for everyone. There's a certain goodness that pushes them to do the right thing. Asshai doesn't want to do the right thing, they want nothing more than to carry on life as they always have since ancient times." Moqorro replies repressing a grin returning his attention to Jon, "makes you wonder why the White Walkers stole children doesn't it ranger? Sounds to me the walkers and their king thought they were doing the right thing."

"That's the biggest bunch of bullshit I've ever heard." Yara says stepping closer to the wizard's cell. "Children aren't dangerous and none I've come across tried to kill me."

Moqorro shakes his head pointing at Yara rattling the wrist chains, "that is where you are mistaken your grace. I'm sure both of you've heard of Varys the spider."

"You knew Varys?" Jon asks.

"I can't name a person on the western and eastern continents that hasn't heard of the master of whispers. He's the sole reason Asshai's leaders withdrew legislation allowing children into the city after a plague swept through the Shadow Lands. Its as your grace stated a child never tried to kill her before. We're all taught never to trust men- a woman besides your mother and spouse but we've always been taught to trust children. Varys created a vast network of Littlebird spies and assassins roaming both sides of the Narrow Sea while under the crown's protection. He remains the only person I know of royalty or not those faceless wackos refuse to assassinate, not an easy accomplishment to say the least."

Jon grimaces recalling Varys's execution at the hands of Daenerys and the conversation they'd held beforehand. Varys was always right from the beginning he'd served several kings not including the Targaryen regime in Essos. He witnessed many monarchs fail time after time learning from each of their mistakes. The time he spoke for the realm's greater good cost him his life. Jon supposes he failed Varys too as well as the millions who lost their lives that day. "It doesn't matter if this is the most inherently dangerous place in the world. I need to find the person I'm looking for at any cost. If I have to bring you two along as guides then so be it."

Euron half laughs, "even after I said what your attempting to do is suicide and hearing of Asshai's fucked up code of ethics you still desire to sail there? I mistook you Stark you're a bigger fool than I thought." Euron grins slamming his wrists on the metal bars, "I'm in. Let Yara tell you I'm the only one who can sail west and reach Asshai. Its either that or you two can sail east through Essos's war zone costing you time; Something I know you two don't have otherwise you wouldn't be standing here and I'd been beheaded already. So what's it going to be ranger? Is this person that important to you?"

Jon grabs a torch handing it to Yara taking the other in hand. "We sail tomorrow using your ship Iron Victory. I'd suggest sleeping it's the last decent one you'll both get in awhile."

Euron slams against the cell halting Jon and Yara's tracks, "I urge you to do the same ranger. Keep one eye open or I'll slit your throat throwing you overboard."

"You're more than welcome to try." He says draping a hand over the White Wolf hilt leaving Euron and Moqorro in the prison cell.

"So you know who he's after?" Moqorro asks facing Euron's cell sitting up against the wall.

"Its not that queen he serves in the North its the other one. Cersei always talked about killing those two frequently during my time in King's Landing." Euron leans back staring out the cell window.

"_I captured the queen of Dorne and my niece now you want me to capture two more. I'm not much into kidnapping queens and princesses." Euron examined Cersei's office picking up a Lannister gold embroidered dagger, "I'd rather fuck em." He says twirling the blade. _

"_Don't touch that." Cersei says drawing Euron's attention, "it was my fathers." The lord captain nods placing Tywin's dagger in its place sitting on the other side of her watching the queen fill out documents approving safety laws proposed by the southern lords. _

"_You gonna tell me why you want to kill two girls residing in the god forsaken north. What could they have done to get on your bad side?" _

_Cersei continues writing glancing at Euron relenting noticing his curious stare. "If you must know Sansa Stark and her sister Arya had a traitorous father who sought to throw my family out of the capital—" _

"_Eddard Stark, I remember him well during the siege of Castle Pyke riding beside King Robert, an honorable fool he was." _

_Cersei smiles settling the quill aside, "indeed he was. The moment he accepted my previous husband's offer to ride south becoming the King's hand his fate was sealed. I remember the exact words I said to him; 'either you play to win the Game of Thrones or you die.' She smirks recalling Ned's bewilderment the moment Lord Baelish places a dagger at his throat. "I did warn you not to trust me." Cersei says sipping the sweet arbor wine. _

_Euron places a hand under his chin, "so then by your son Joffrey's order he was beheaded. Still wouldn't the girls be innocent? With the Viper queen regent it's understandable I'd do the same had someone poisoned my daughter." _

_Cersei sighs thinking of her children constantly; she knew Joffrey was a monster but Tommen and Marcella were good, the pair weren't like her and Jamie. Its as if the gods placed all their negative traits into their first born giving their twins the purest. She carries the burden having to live with guilt of burying her father and three children and accepting Jamie's departure abandoning her when she was protecting them. "Yes well lets just say the viper queen got what she deserved. Its more than I can say for that traitorous whore Sansa. Her and Joffrey were to be married. Since the moment they met she fawned over my son begging to be queen of the realm. We tried bringing her into our family even after Joffrey's betrothed changed to Margery Tyrell and hers to my imp brother Tyrion. I was informed of a meeting between Margery, her grandmother Olenna, and Sansa." _

"_What was said during that private meeting between them?" _

"_Sansa claimed Joffrey was unfit to be king and married to Margery." Cersei pours Euron a wine cup refilling her own sipping lightly. "It was all that old woman needed to hear before exacting her plan during Joffrey and Margery's wedding." The two share a glance as Euron gulps the Arbor pouring another coming to the realization, "she poisoned my son using a necklace given to Sansa before the ceremony began." _

"_Did you know it was her at first? The old lady I mean?" _

_Cersei chuckles behind her cup, "no I blamed my brother Tyrion. However his anger lied on someone else" she says moving her gaze to the golden dagger across the office earning a nod from Euron. "Olenna was the only woman my father respected as an equal and she had Joffrey murdered. I was told by my twin brother Jamie Olenna didn't anticipate the poison would cause pain or suffering. She knew exactly what its properties entailed, my son was seen as a monster by many. To me he was a sweet scared boy, I know because I saw it in his eyes as he tried speaking to me before he died." Euron refills Cersei's cup leaning back in awe of the events that had occurred in King's Landing during his expeditions across the world. _

"_And I assume Sansa Stark escaped the capital. Whatever happened to Arya Stark?" _

_Cersei grips the goblet tighter forgetting about the younger Stark sister. "While I held my second son Tommen during Stannis's invasion of King's Landing another loyalist turner traitor Sandor Clegane better known as 'the Hound' abandoned the city and his king like a coward." _

"_I heard of em. Tougher than most, a scar covering half his face also heard he's quite the fighter." _

_Cersei chuckles, "yes and a traitor and a coward. I placed a bounty on his head tripling the reward hearing he was escorting Arya north under his protection." _

_Euron sits back draping an arm over the chair," shame, sounds like he could've been a useful servant to you." _

"_Its quite alright I assure. Why have a small scarred dog when you can have the big one." Euron's hand instinctively reaches for the hilt noticing Gregor Clegane draped in shiny black armor stepping into the solar keeping a watchful eye on Cersei. _

"_Sansa resides in the North alongside her half brother the former lord commander of the Nights Watch now the pair stand together with the mother of dragons as some united front but Ned Stark's bastard is loyal to the Targaryen queen." _

"_We should send a garrison of troops there to ambush them. The men under my command don't fare well on land but we'll manage." _

_Cersei leans in her seat, "there's no point wasting your or Strickland's soldiers. The Northern alliance will be overrun by the dead. For now we sit and bide our time until they make their move. My concern is with Daenerys Targaryen and my traitorous brother Tyrion. The mother of dragons is desperate she lost all her Westerosi allies with the exception of the north." _

"_I may be overstepping my queen. I suggest taking out the northern army, let the Golden Company battle Daenerys Targaryen." _

"_That won't be necessary Euron. You've done more than enough sailing the Golden Company from Essos here. Although I would've loved to see at least one of those marvelous elephants." Cersei can't resist a smile having wanted to see the exotic creatures native to Essos. _

_Euron stands preparing to leave, "alright its settled then. We'll keep the Lannister army here I'll take my troops and Strickland's company to Dragonstone to await Daenerys Targaryen's fleet. The scorpions placed around the city walls and on the fleet vessels' helms should do the trick taking a down a dragon." _

"_It worked in the past, there's an abundance of dragon skulls Red Keep's crypt. Ah yes Ser Gregor permit Quburn entrance." Cersei stands as well as the queen's hand bows. _

"_Your grace, Lord Greyjoy." Qyburn says handing Euron a report detailing the soldier count distributed and deployed throughout the city should his fleet be forced into a retreat. "The calibrations to the scorpions are to your specifications, however I suggest testing before moving to live fire." _

"_No need for that chum, we'll be ready." Euron says clasping Qyburn's shoulder. _

"_Your grace, whenever you're ready the southern lords are awaiting your presence." _

"_Thank you I'll be down shortly Qyburn." _

_Cersei smiles turning to Euron, "one more war to win and we'll be free to start our lives together," he says stepping to the solar's exit, "don't worry about a thing love we'll kill the mother of dragons." _

"_Good. If the dead don't succeed we will." Cersei says sipping her wine cup watching Euron leave. He doesn't see her retake her seat holding a letter from Jamie telling her he was coming home after securing the Reach and Riverland territories respectively praying to return safely to her. _

"As much as I desire to kill the north warden for doing this to me." He says holding up his hand showing a broken pinky bent sideways. "We need the half breed Targaryen and you need your niece as a second navigator." Moqorro says laying down in the cot staring at the ceiling.

"I'd rather kill both of them getting it over with however those two won't let us off until we reach Asshai. It doesn't matter we're getting out of this shit hole tommorow, the time to make our move will be soon."

Jon and Yara sit across each other in her solar drawing final preparations for their intended destination. "This is it Lord Snow, are you sure you're ready for this?"

"Wether I'm ready or not I'm going to get Arya back no matter what." Jon finishes the letter he's worked on since the Pyke's siege defense detailing his intentions and progress telling her he'll return to Winterfell with Arya. He sends a raven through Yara's chamber window watching it vanish into the night praying the Northern alliance and Arya wherever she was is safe.

—

**XXX**

—

**A/N: Next the convocation starts in King's Landing. Daenerys finds out a harsh truth about her latest actions while Jon and the other finally set sail west. **


	10. The Convocation Begins

Bran stares out the royal solar as a large raven lands on the stone sill pecking left over bread crumbs set out the previous night. The kings eyes return to their normal brown color hearing knocks at the door. Podrick enters standing behind Bran offering a smile, "it's time your grace the first kingdoms started arriving."

"Excellent. Is the council ready to begin?"

"They're awaiting your presence in the council chambers." Podrick says clicking the chair's bottom lever wheeling Bran out the royal solar asking the king how he slept receiving the usual reply most days he didn't.

Tyrion is the first to his feet followed by the others quickly ceasing their individual activities as Bran is placed at the head of the table opposite his hand. "Its good of you to join us your grace. We are in the middle of discussing candidates we've selected for a new master of war—"

"There's no need for that Lord Tyrion. I've already chosen a new master of war. What I come to discuss is about the weeks long festivities taking place in only a few short hours."

"If I can inquire what's it pertaining to your grace?" Sam asks.

"I realize its last minute however I desire to gather all the great houses' leaders in the throne room sometime this week. The events will be discussed in detail as well as other business that shall remain undisclosed. Until the opening ceremonies I'd like to lie down I had a rather interesting night." The council share glances thinking they heard some semblance of Bran Stark returning. "I leave the rest to you until then." He says allowing Podrick to wheel him out the council chambers.

Brienne branches from small council overhearing Bronn boasting about the brothels new additions leading them to it. Podrick shuts Bran's solar door locking it behind him nodding to the royal guards under Brienne's command. "You aren't joining the others Brienne? Podrick asks walking with her through the corridor.

Brienne represses a chuckle, "and do what exactly Podrick? Its a brothel."

"Aye you're right. I never cared too much for places like that either."

"Pod." Brienne halts him away from listening ears. He can't help smiling at the nickname recalling her training on their journey from King's Landing to Winterfell in search of Arya and Sansa Stark. After the ordeal he believed the pair of them can survive anything thrown their way. "Go enjoy yourself for awhile you've earned time off more than any of us."

"I enjoy what I do I assure you Brienne I don't need a break from my duty." The younger kingsgaurd says resuming his walk before Brienne halts him once more.

"Everyone needs a break Podrick. At least until tonight when the small council gathers again. Join the others at the brothel if you want."

"How about you? What will you do?"

Brienne smiles warmly, "I'm meeting with an old friend."

"I'll see you tonight Lady Brienne." Podrick trots off in search of the others.

Brienne exits the Red Keep entering the crowds gathering witnessing the kingdoms' arrivals. Conversations are dominated by their excitement hosting great houses from countries they would never have traveled to beforehand. People turn staring in awe offering the Kingsguard commander praise showering her with gifts ranging from wine, food and other miscellaneous items she hasn't recognized yet. She declines pushing her way through the emptier streets heading for the capital outskirts.

The Eyrie and Iron Island factions are led to different campsites in opposing directions leaving the Riverlands and the North to occupy the nearest open site large enough to host the great houses in both countries. Sansa Brynden and Edmure disperse through their respective camps as soldiers and workers set up tents nailing canvas and braided rope into the grass. Supply wagons are placed underneath oak tree shade as water is collected from the river and fire pits are dug far enough apart giving groups their own space. Sansa climbs off her horse allowing a nearby guard to march her to a reserve stable at the city's edge. Sansa releases a sigh hoping Ghost would've found his way to her since disappearing in the Riverland forests, there hasn't been a reported sighting since.

"Lady Sansa." The Queen in the North smiles running into Brienne's familiar embrace, "its good to see you again."

"Its good to see you as well." Sansa smiles brightly stepping away viewing the Kingsgaurd who escorted her safely to Castle Black refusing to leave her side even in the care of Jon. "Your armor, its the first time I've seen you as a kingsgaurd."

Brienne smiles forgetting about the glided steel placing a hand over Oathkeeper, "thank you your grace—"

"Please my brother is king you never have to be formal with me."

Brienne bows, "of course Lady Sansa. How've you been? You look well."

"The journey from Winterfell was tiring I'm looking forward to this weeks convocation, its all everyone's been talking about since we entered the Riverlands." Sansa says. Brienne sighs recalling reading Sansa's letters by candlelight worrying if she was doing alright ruling alone after Arya's disappearance and Jon's exile.

Brienne strides beside Sansa linking arms strolling alongside Northmen rushing to construct the campsite eager to roam free around the capital. "Not long ago Bran gave a report on Jon Snow's progress beyond the wall." Brienne halts as Sansa's still.

"Brienne there's something I have to tell you, it has to stay between us. Even Bran can't know promise me."

Brienne smiles resuming their stroll, "Lady Sansa you know anything spoken between us stays between us."

A small grin overtakes the Queen in the North's features, "Jon returned to Winterfell a day before we departed." Brienne halts surprising Sansa.

"Thats wonderful Lady Sansa. In your letters you made it clear you weren't sure what happened up North since the Night's Watch doesn't disclose information on their personnel."

Sansa rotates the silver wolf ring on her index finger, "their lord commander Mallister was kind enough granting Jon parole from his duties in exchange for charged criminals from our castle and keep prisons."

"I shouldn't say anything either though I'm sure you know it was Bran's order which kept the lords from supplying the Night's Watch with prisoners out their dungeons. I apologize not being any help to you or your family."

"Its quite alright Brienne you are at no fault, its no ones but my own." Sansa says staring at Knight's racing on a deserted dirt road crossing over to a wood bridge noticing soldiers chase close behind clamoring to see the winner.

Brienne notices the soldiers finding Sansa still staring after the end, "is Jon here? Did he accompany the north caravan?" Brienne exhales as Sansa pulls tighter.

"Whats troubling you Lady Sansa?" Brienne asks facing the northern queen placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "whatever it is you can tell me."

Sansa remains silent a few moments, "I named Jon warden asking if he'd help Yara Greyjoy having her help finding Arya. I wanted to keep my family close and together instead they're both gone because of me."

"I'm sure it will be fine my lady." Sansa sighs searching Brienne's eyes. "Lord Snow and Miss Arya are both strong they'll return to you." Sansa smiles resuming their walk catching up on current events conversing as if they never missed a day with each other.

Brynden and Edmure walk side by side out the gathering crowd meeting with Brienne and Sansa. "Lady Brienne, grand niece." The Blackfish says shaking the Kingsguard commander's hand.

"Lord Blackfish good to see you again. The last time we spoke you claimed you'd never leave Riverrun I see you've broken your vow."

Brynden laughs patting Edmure's back as he chuckles awkwardly, "go find your wife I'll catch up with you later." He says dismissing his nephew watching him scurry to the capital.

"Was that—"

"Yes unfortunately. So what trouble will the Queen in the North and commander of the Kingsgaurd get in today?"

Sansa turns to Brienne "we won't get in any trouble I assure you Uncle Brynden."

"Just wanted to be sure. Well don't let an old man like me bother you two. Lady Brienne always good seeing you. I trust my niece in your care." He says walking toward his waiting bannermen.

"Where are you going uncle?"

"To find trouble." Brynden replies disappearing in the crowds trailed by Rivermen. Sansa holds chuckles in a hand remembering someone too familiar who finds trouble. The pair head enter the capital going to Brienne's apartment in the central villa next to the marketplace.

"So there she was on her knees, tits dangling near the floor ass up in the air. Had her crawl over to me and—"

"I'd rather not hear this Bronn I've heard your stories a thousand times over." Sam says.

"Trust me Samwell you'll want to hear this one."

"As I was clearly saying before being so rudely interrupted. She crawled over on her knees didn't bother to take me boots off yanks my pants down then she vomited her guts out." Tyrion Davos Podrick Varys and Bronn spill wine drunkenly as Sam cracks a grin not seeing the humor.

"Its as I said Bronn. This is why we like having you on the council not because you make wise financial investments." Tyrion says breaking though their dying laughs.

"Should we order more wine?" Podrick asks noticing the tables bottle supply empty.

"You know what I want more than anything right now?" Tyrion hangs the open question to the room noticing several girls carrying Arbor Gold. "Bronn you son of a bitch you spoil us with gifts too often."

"I know." Bronn says waving the girls to enter their reserved room on the brothel's third floor.

"Wonderful thank you dear," Varys uncorks the first bottle refilling everyone's cup to the brim. "Well if this is how our whole day consists until the opening ceremony. I must say this is a most welcome change compared to how we've spent the countless other times."

"Is it just me? Or am I the only one who isn't looking forward to this whole gathering of the great houses in Westeros. Being the master of ships preparing and regulating the capital harbor for the past few weeks has been an unwelcome pain in my ass." Davos says.

Podrick laughs clasping Davos's shoulder, "cheer up friend have another drink. Who knows maybe you'll find a good woman to settle with."

"At my age I'll be lucky finding a widow whose had six children already."

"At your age I'd say thats a keeper." Bronn says waving more service bottles over.

"Guys in all seriousness theres important issues need addressing during this weeks convocation," Sam says holding out a piece of parchment earning groans from the councilmen with the exception Podrick. "First is the introduction of the new Kingsguard arriving—"

"I think best we should let Lady Brienne and Ser Podrick here sort that one out." Tyrion says finishing the wine in one go.

Sam stops at a peculiar one of interest, "selecting a war council that one will be interesting. I wonder if King Bran wants to select his master of war then as well."

"That one is great interest to me as well. I had a few candidates in mind however I enjoy being surprised every now and again." Varys says.

"If I'm not selected on the new war council I'll question its legitimacy."

"You kidding? Podrick deserves to be on it more than you do he saved your ass during Stannis's invasion of the city." Pod raises his cup offering a smile appreciating the vote of confidence.

"Alright slow your wits. I served on Stannis's war council and helped Northmen and wildlings win the battle for Winterfell against the Boltons when we were doomed to fail. I may not be a fighter least I should get elected to the committee."

"Slow down chum the war council needs fighters. Should it come between you and Tyrion I'm taking the Imp any day of the week." Bronn and Tyrion share a toast while the latter grins.

"Somehow I'm still asking myself why I decide to associate myself with you two outside our small council meetings."

Sam furrows his brows, "Varys I didn't know you were hosting the jousting tournament this week. I'd never guessed you were interested in anything besides...Well what you do exactly."

Varys smirks sipping the Arbor Gold, "I was all too eager accepting our king's offer to host the biggest jousting tournament in the capital's history. I for one despite the kingdom's current state at that particular time always held a love for the grandeur games knights enjoy so much. Only in a game such as that could Loras Tyrell unseat the Mountain a truly different beast than the fighting pit."

"I can't imagine how many contestants are signing up, I've never been much a fan. I had only watched because my brother Dickon did. It gave us something to share in common together." Sam says offering a smile as Varys nods remembering the Tarlys from Hornhill well, Sam's father Randall particularly for his loyal service to the crown.

"Jousting is for fancy knights who can't swing a sword correctly. Real entertainment is the fighting pit tournament only the strongest bravest warriors enter, better luck next year Bronn."

"Entering a tournament that holds no prize reward and after winning it all you declare some lady the queen of love and beauty, yeah thanks but no thanks," Bronn says holding a hand up, "you lost me at no prize money."

"Fair point. The only reward I need." The hosting girls appear sitting on the lounge sofa beside the small council. Tyrion pulls a blonde on his lap running an image of Daenerys through his thoughts grinning at Podrick gulping wine gathering liquid courage before speaking with the raven hair beauty.

"That ones been asking about our ol' boy Pod for weeks. She's new to the city came up from Dorne about a month or two ago."

"Looks like its going swimmingly already."

"Master of ships? What does that entail?" A brunette asks leaning in the cushions as Davos hands her a drink.

"A less important job than you imagine trust me a nutless monkey can do it." He says brightening seeing the woman giggle uncontrollably in a palm.

"Why don't you have your Maester's chain?"

"Its sort of a long story."

"Thats alright we're in no rush."

Sam gently removes her grip, "I appreciate your kindness really I do though I'm married and have a son."

"I see." The tan woman says filling glasses for them both.

He smiles seeing she's content having company talking to someone besides her fellow workers. "I was in the Night's Watch not long ago."

The younger lady's eyes widen in wonder as she places a hand over her mouth finishing the wine practically leaping off the cushions. "Then you must've seen a White Walker?"

"I killed one protecting my wife, she wasn't back then of course."

"How romantic."

"There's no way you have this silk embroiled in this lined cotton design, I've never seen these type of intricate designs Lord Varys." The redhead says crossing a leg over her knee as the spider pours another glass.

"You're far too kind darling, I assure you this robe is simply peasant clothing to what I usually wear though your praise is appreciated."

She sips her goblet moving closer, "perhaps you can show me sometime my lord I'll show you mine should you show me yours." Varys cracks a smile draping an arm over the lounge conversing about the upcoming convocation events.

Tyrion chugs another cup letting remnants leak down sides of his mouth dripping on the tile. He glances around relishing his comrades content moods enjoying themselves to the fullest. His mind is lost gazing at Daenerys's doppelgänger draped across his lap. "Well I'll be damned the Blackfish is in my establishment would've spiffied up the place had I known."

"Brynden Tully is downstairs?" Tyrion hops to the floor heading for the stairs trailed by Bronn.

Brynden heartily laughs drinking with his Rivermen who're known throughout the kingdoms for holding their liquor. He notices his men halt their laughter staring behind him as the two councilmen stand on both sides slightly out of view.

"Tyrion Lannister."

"Bronn of Blackwater."

"Go fuck yourselves." Brynden says finishing his cup glancing over a shoulder at the retreating duo signaling for more bottles continuing to laugh with his bannermen about the event.

"Lord Tully," a bannerman says emerging from the nearby crowds, "Lord Edmure requested your presence near the flea bottom district."

Brynden leans in his seat, "what in the hell is Edmure doing in that shit hole?" B_astard should be with his family not out starting fights he can't finish.' _

"Sir? Should we send word you're on your way or should we send a garrison?"

Brynden slams his cup down waving to his bannermen to clear out tossing a bag filled with silver on the table leaving the brothel entering the crowded streets piling with locals; Northmen-Dornishmen- Valemen- Ironborn and the newly arriving bannermen from the Stormlands showing off the Baratheon stag proudly marching through the streets.

"Great just what we need aye? Those Stormland fucks don't know when to shut their mouths." Lord Vance says to another trailing their lord.

"Think they're bad ever met a Dornishman? Only take one of those bastards to start a war." Lord Piper replies.

"Just wait until those Westermen pricks get here then we really got ourselves a problem."

The Blackfish isn't a stranger to tournaments and gatherings celebrating unique individual Westerosi heritage especially during recent years under the reign of King Robert. Though nothing prepared him seeing every country gathered causing the streets to overflow with people shifting in and out every corner. He was skeptical hearing his great nephew Bran would be king growing more skeptical learning he's also the Three Eye Raven. Being honest he didn't believe an entity with an ambiguous power should be an unquestioned ruler; he ponders how much humanity remains in Bran. Before leaving King's Landing they need to speak privately. A glimmer of hope surges through him realizing Westeros is in complete solidarity for the time being. Brynden halts Piper Vance and his bannermen finding Edmure at Flea Bottom's edge.

"Uncle Brynden good you made it." Edmure says draping an arm around shoulder leading the garrison through the streets.

"You better have good reason calling me out to this shit hole."

"Listen I know what you're thinking but no there's some old acquaintances from the Vale that were awaiting your presence." Edmure leads his uncle and the bannermen past the silver and blacksmiths passing through vendor booths and shops packed with people selling inventory exchanging gold and silver.

"Well I'll be a old bloody hound Jonos Bracken and Tytos Blackwood didn't think I'd ever see you two again."

"For fuck's sake I thought you were dead by the look of it you're already halfway there." Jonos says shaking Brynden's hand tightly.

"Goddammit Brynden its been too many years how you been ol' bastard?" Tytos says greeting his old friend as the Blackfish smirks stepping aside.

"Gentlemen you remember my great nephew Edmure," Brynden pats his shoulder proudly as he reintroduces himself to the Vale lords, "he's my heir like an only son and he'll command Riverrun in my stead when I'm six feet under. Hopefully that day comes sooner than later." Edmure steps away glancing toward the marketplace in the capital's heart.

"Excuse me my lords I promised my wife I'd meet with her soon. She gave birth to a boy only months ago I've yet to see them both."

Brynden smiles recalling the Kingslayer's vow Edmure would be reunited with Roslin at the Lannister family home of Casterly Rock. It was thanks to him Edmure never got that chance, "go Edmure see your family I'll see you later tonight." Brynden says smiling proudly watching his great nephew depart. The Blackfish introduces Lords Piper and Vance to Bracken and Blackwood as the four converse about the Kingslayer and his recent crusade through their lands.

Edmure pushes his way through rowdy flea bottom residents and soldiers entering the heart of the capital. He enters a luxury apartment complex dodging occupants lining the halls chattering hurrying in and out of doors. The younger Tully lord heads up the stairs glancing at a small paper halting near the hallways end knocking softly.

The door slowly creeks open revealing Roslin in a scarlet silk dress brunette hair hanging to her waist. It takes little more than a moment before she leaps at Edmure holding tight. "Edmure I'm so glad to see you."

"Aye I'm glad as well." He holds on tighter realizing he nearly lost this chance when he was captured by the Lannister army. "How are you? Did you travel here alright?"

"Yes everything went smoothly." Roslin smiles leading him inside the apartment to the single bedroom down the short hall. The fifth Frey daughter places a finger to her rosy lips, "he fell asleep not too long ago." She says sitting beside the sleeping month old infant.

Edmure places a hand on the knob lingering in the doorway unable to fathom he has a child now. When Roslin first announced she was pregnant she'd made it clear in her prayers for the baby to be born a girl thinking Walder would kill him if it was a boy. He recalls selfishly wishing it would be a girl too in order for his life to be spared for a chance to live a peacefully with Roslin. His biggest regret was not being there for the birth of his first son by his wife's side, perhaps it was the gods punishing him for his selfish prayers. Despite his wanting of a daughter he couldn't have more happy with a son. Since being named heir to Riverrun he will ensure the child will grow to fulfill the same duties as the Tully lords before him. However now he is content seeing Roslin rest a gentle hand on their son. "Does he have a name yet?" He asks kneeling beside his family gazing upon the sleeping infant's rosy face.

"I didn't want to name him without you." Roslin stands from the bed placing her hands in Edmure's. "Since our stay at the Twins I've been calling him Edmund it's all I could think of."

"Edmund, its a good name." He rubs thumbs across his wife's knuckles, "my apologies for not being with you at your stay at the Twins. I should have been there with you and Edmund. Its just my Uncle Brynden needed me—"

"I understand Edmure it's okay." She says grasping his hand leading him to the front room as he shuts the door taking a last glance at the infant. "I can't help feeling responsible for what our union did to your alliance with your Stark family . Don't misunderstand me Edmure I'm very fond of you however I knew about my father's plans to betray the Stark family while you had no idea. I say this because Sansa Stark has arrived in the capital." Roslin leans on Edmure as he holds onto her, " I'll understand if she wants to punish me for what I've done."

Edmure pulls his wife closer leaning back, "I loved my sister Catelyn and nephew Robb very much. I know Sansa felt the same if not more than I did. Listen Roslin, Sansa is good. She's a kind and caring person, the best leader the North can ask for and I promise nothing will happen to you." They share an embrace forgetting about the celebratory wine on the table.

"I still don't understand what we're doing here sir." Harrold says evading people running the opposite direction. One bumps the falcon shield draped over his back hitting the pavement scrambling into the crowd.

Robin halts when Yohn Royce places a hand in front of him evading a Westerland trading cart hurling past them. "Lord Arryn please be careful traversing the capital is different than any other city in Westeros I mistrust these carefree southern folk."

"I'll be more careful Lord Royce." Robin turns to Harrold bumping shoulders with a passing drunkard receiving a '_fuck off.' _"Lord Hardyng try and relax you're being coronated in the prestigious kingsguard in only a few days."

"I know Lord Arryn can't help worry about moving my family down here. Gulltown seems like paradise compared to this madness."

"You may rest assured Lord Hardyng the capital isn't usually this hectic nor reeks of this much stinking pigshit." Encouraging words coming from Runestone's lord brought the Vale's first shield no solace his family meant everything without them he holds no purpose.

"You can smell the stink too I swore I was the only one."

"Heavens no Lord Arryn you can smell the shit manure for miles."

"Again my lords I don't understand why we've decided to visit the busiest street in the capital." Harrold says trailing behind Robin and Yohn staring at the Red Keep in the distance having never seen it before.

Robin glances at the Vale's first shield, "we're here to enter in the tournaments scheduled this week. Out of them all I'm looking forward most to the jousting tournament, its drawing the most talk among the kingdoms here." The trio stop at a line gathered noting soldiers from every country in Westeros conversing.

Harrold crosses arms glancing at the sky turning to his lords, "I may be leaving the Vale to become a Kingsgaurd though that goes without saying I wouldn't feel comfortable allowing you to enter any tournaments. All due respect I won't be able to protect you."

Robin smiles resting a hand on his hilt, "you need not worry about me Lord Hardyng. There's a reason I approved the crown's request to integrate you into the honor of being a kingsgaurd when I received a recommendation letter from the small council."

"What reason would that be Lord Arryn?" Harrold questions witnessing a nearby scuffle break out between a Dornishman and Ironborn threatening to involve comrades and passing pedestrians.

An Ironborn raider slams a steel helmet into a Dornishman's temple, "fuckin Dornishman, they start wars over such asinine reasons it borders on stupidity." Yohn snorts at the belligerent Ironborn marching off with fellow soldiers disappearing into masses, they are angry little people willing to steal whatever they can get their grubby hands on.

"I actually second that Lord Royce." Harrold says glancing at the commotion around them. '_I shouldn't bring my family here even if isn't like this all the time. The capital so far's been nothing but trouble.' _

"Lines moving quickly Lord Hardyng. I know you're thinking about your family however a word of caution. When your in King's Landing don't ponder too much except about the moment in front of you. Trust me you've seen it yourself so far, this isn't the Eyrie." Robin places hands behind him seeing the line moving along the others eager at the prospect of entering more tournaments to display his skill in front of Westeros's elite. "As for your question earlier Lord Hardyng I feel comfortable saying I can handle myself in some tournaments for entertainment. The only opponent I've lost to is Jon Snow in the entire time I fought. It's doubtful anyone here can match the Warden of the North he was the greatest swordsman I've encountered."

Harrold didn't show the current anger recalling his brief battle with the ranger beyond the wall. "Hate to admit it however I'm inclined to agree. Even if his sword is Valyrian there's no possible way he could've deflected the falcon shield coming at him with that much power behind it. The shield's force should've cracked his sternum as it would an eggshell."

Yohn nods, "Lord Snow is the finest swordsman in your generation Robin." Runestone's lord represses a chuckle, "however all of you are fledglings compared to Barriston Selmy, Arthur Dayne and a whole Jamie Lannister up until the incident during the war. That's what makes your feat so very impressive Lord Hardyng is the falcon shield itself." Harrold glances at the shield staring at its worn war paint and chipped steel. "In the storied history of the Kingsgaurd you're the first to be approved with a shield. There've been numerous not harboring a sword though none with a weapon such as yours."

Harrold grins trailing the pair, "can't argue with that Lord Royce. Just wish we moved more than ten feet while we were speaking."

—

**XXX**

—

"I really wish you could visit the North one day if you're not busy commanding the Kingsguard." Sansa says sitting on Brienne's lounge as the knight takes a seat across the Northern Queen.

Brienne smiles knowing how hard it is for Sansa leaving Winterfell she nearly sacrificed everything to obtain it from the Boltons. "I'm not sure when the next time I'll have leave but I vow to visit you. I'm sure Bran will be happy to see you its been awhile since you two last saw each other."

"Yes its felt like years. How's he doing? I know he doesn't enjoy being bothered so I let him be yet I can't help worry how he's doing."

"The king is well. Its as I said in my previous letters he doesn't sleep much from what Podrick tells me I'm not sure he does at all. Your brother is doing the best he can like we all are at our duty. His ability is something none of us can understand. I will say since his coronation things have steadily improved in my eyes."

Sansa sighs grasping the goblet tighter unsure wether to disclose the information, "I don't know how to say this Brienne..."

"Go on Lady Sansa you know anything you say stays between us."

"I love my brother more than anything. At some point I have to accept he's not really the Bran I knew growing up. Sounds silly right? After what we all went through none of us are the same kids we were growing up in Winterfell. The Three Eye raven is something else." Sansa's hands clenches her gray dress turning her knuckles pale. "I know he can see certain things yet I didn't have a clue the extent of it. When he returned beyond the wall I was so happy to see him again. Bran mentioned he saw me during my wedding ceremony underneath the Godswood. Sometimes I wonder wether the old Bran is in there somewhere. Apologies again for bothering you with this Brienne."

"Its quite alright. I understand you feel that way, truth be told none of us knew how to react realizing our king has the power to traverse through every past event at any given moment being able to warg into ravens keeping an eye on the realm and other happenings occurring around the world. You should talk to him sometime this week during the festivities. He's extremely busy with everything though I'm sure he'd love nothing more than seeing you."

"I can only hope so Lady Brienne."

"If you don't mind me asking where exactly did Arya travel sailing out west? In hindsight sounds simple enough. She could've asked Bran what resides there instead of sailing without a particular destination in mind."

"I suggested that before we left here during our last summit here. Arya is a free spirit. She chose to forgo any prior knowledge about what lays beyond the Sunset Sea—I miss her more than anything."

"Well I'm sure she'll return to you soon I would try not worrying about it for now." The Kingsguard commander knows Sansa won't ever stop worrying for her family. It doesn't mean she can't enjoy her time during the week stay in King's Landing. The pair laugh sipping their wine ignoring the noise in the next room over. The doors slams shut as the apartment goes silent.

Edric, Gerold and Allyria Dayne sit across from each other as the eldest leans on the cushions resting a hand over his eyes. "For what reason do we need to fulfill these obligations and come to this fucking convocation? This city is dirty filled with nothing but pigshit I could care less what goes on here."

"Cousin you know we're required to stay updated on the affairs not just affecting Dorne as a whole. This is arguably the most important week in Westeros's history." The lord of Starfall says pouring three wine cups passing them around the table.

"Our little lord is correct we needed to attend Gerold. What would others think of us should one of Westeros's eldest established houses vacate ourselves from the week long festival."

Gerold pushes the sweet wine away pulling out a sack of fresh lemons filling a goblet with water unsheathing a short dagger cutting a lemon in slices squeezing it into the cup, "that is a load of horseshit Allyria. When was the last time the crown ever called on the great House Dayne for anything? Coming here to this convocation is a waste of our time. Besides I'm apart of the cadet branch High Hermitage not the great house itself as I reiterate its pointless from my position."

Edric smiles widely as Allyria chuckles louder at Gerold's usual broody nature. "As I recall the last time the crown called upon House Dayne to serve was when uncle Arthur was a kingsgaurd under Aerys II."

"I do fondly recall the time we'd be told stories of his heroic deeds. I truly wish we got to know him."

"Its thanks to that bastard breeder Eddard Stark we didn't. You ask me that might be for the best; had he survived you would never be lord of shit and you'd be married off to some noble cunt lord in some shithole keep. Arthur receives too much praise earning infamy in today's age from being slain by a Stark."

"Ah come on Gerold don't be a jackass. Uncle Arthur is one of the most legendary knights in all our history. What's that one story you've always shared with us? I never tiring hearing it."

"Yes yes please tell it Gerold no one can as you do."

"Alright if I tell the tale its the last time and no begging me to do this shit."

_The Kingswood Brotherhood scatter throughout the forest chanting a war cry making their final stand. The king's forces scamper across the open field prompting them to take cover behind the great redwood trees. The Smiling Knight holds a long sword in one hand and broad axe in the other. He stands beside Simon Toyne leader of the brotherhood. "What honor do we have that King Aerys sends the commander of his kingsgaurd and a garrison to finish mercenaries." The Smiling Knight stares down the crown's charging soldiers as Simon yells for his forces to proceed hoisting their banner in the air. _

_A young newly initiated Jamie Lannister stands a step behind Barriston Selmy staring at the charging brotherhood watching flaming arrows cut through the fog. "Back boy." Barriston grabs Jamie placing him behind a nearby tree. The arrows clip their forces throwing them from their horses forcing them to stand their ground charging toward the brotherhood fighters. "Stay down." Jamie heaves frosting the air feeling Barriston dive headfirst in the fray. _

_Jamie peers around the tall redwood taking cover as an arrow chips through the thick bark nearly blinding him. The young kingsgaurd witnesses their forces speed past him through the fog clashing against the brotherhood. He heaves once more gathering his nerve seeing a fellow soldier cut down with ease. Jamie parries a brotherhood grunt's sword slicing him from neck to belly rescuing an ally. The shakiness from King's Landing until crossing Wendwater River is gone. He's a prodigy trained under Sumner Crakehall and more recently Ser Barriston himself. _

"_Lord Selmy!" Jamie evades a wild swing slashing a grunts nape plunging the broadsword through another's sternum driving him to his knees kicking him off the blade. Jamie catches a white cloak in the near distance sprinting for it spinning out a lunging spears path slicing a soldier's throat battling two grunts at once letting the natural lion instincts and superior training take hold cutting off one's hand proceeding to stab his sword into the others chest using the half dead warrior as cover seeing a second wave of flaming arrows descend on the battlefield. _

_Barriston marches at a steady pace calculating every charging enemies from all angles. Barriston cuts through five enemy grunts weaving his way toward the brotherhood leaders. _

"_I'll take this one—"_

"_No," Simon halts the Smiling Knight drawing his sword out its scabbard, "he defeated you last time you crossed paths I'll cut this Kingsguard fuck down." _

_Simon charges through the fog cutting past the king's soldiers rushing him noticing a white cloak drift in and out of sight noticing brotherhood bannermen slaughtered one by one. Simon blocks Ser Barriston's blindside strike clashing against the king's commander. "Got alotta guts tracking us to our stead. I'll have to personally send your head to King Aerys to prove we can't be stopped." _

"_If you want to kill me it won't be done exchanging words." Barriston blocks Simon's wild swings evading the last one slashing his chainmail plates stumbling the Kingswood Brotherhood leader. _

_The Smiling Knight pursues a soldier crawling for his sword burying the axe through his skull. He faces Ser Arthur Dayne watching him dismount drawing Dawn off his back striding to the grinning Smiling Knight. "Your late. I was beginning to think the great 'sword of the morning,' tucked tailed and ran back to his king." _

_Arthur's eyes are sharp vigilant to the chaos surrounding him. He offers a lazy smile keeping his attention on the mad knight meters away. "You took advantage of the small folk here for too long as well as Houses Wendwater and Fell it was only a matter of time before your misdeeds caught up with you." _

_"You can act all self righteousness, how many enemies have you slain without question in the name of your king. You're no hero Ser Dayne." _

_Arthur's smile widens nearly becoming a chuckle, "no suppose I'm not. I do the right thing whenever I see the opportunity." _

_The Smiling Knight shakes overcome by rage, "I'm done listening to you." He tears a sword strike clashing against Dawn unable to move from him. Arthur bashes his spiked helmet in the Smiling Knight's chin sending him reeling cracking his jaw back in place. The Smiling Knight charges at Arthur swinging forcefully in order to break House Dayne's legendary sword. _

_Simon falls to a knee clutching the bleeding slashes across his chest staring at Ser Barriston's sword residing near his throat. "You're beaten Lord Toyne. You'll be taken before the king to answer for the atrocities you and your brotherhood committed over the years. This time you're not escaping capture." _

_Simon drops the sword in hand grasping flaming ash and dirt off a nearby torch tossing it in Ser Barriston's face causing him to stumble. Simon picks up the sword running to impale Ser Barriston halted by Jamie. Simon growls backfisting the worn Kingsgaurd raising his sword to stab the young man. Barriston blocks the blade his face boiling full with anger, "you dare attempt striking down my ward!" In one swift motion the Kingsguard commander sends Simon's sword flying impaling him. _

_The Smiling Knight's strikes are quick and heavy placing Arthur on the defense backing him down further. Arthur evades and parrying each swing causing his sword to chip away. The knight is aware of Dawn and its debatable mystical origins. It means nothing- a sword is merely a sword-forged steel, nothing more. Dawn has a breaking point as any other blade does eventually he'll find it. The Smiling Knight misses a lunge as Arthur evades slicing three quarters of his blade off leaving him vulnerable. _

_Arthur plunges Dawn in the soil noticing Barriston and Jamie triumph signaling their forces are in control of the battle. "Whats he doing Ser? He should kill the disarmed enemy immediately."_

_ "Watch and learn young lion." _

"_Find a suitable sword so we may continue our battle." Arthur says watching the mad knight snatch a blade out a dead warrior's hand weighing the hilt in his hand. _

"_I always wanted to be like you hearing people clamor about the great Ser Arthur Dayne, 'sword of the morning.'" The Smiling Knight glares at the Kingsguard raising his sword. "I desire nothing more than to cut off your inflated head!" He charges rearing his sword as Arthur remains unmoved. _

_The Smiling Knight raises the sword unable to halt as Arthur draws Dawn from the dirt slashing as the knight stumbles past him. The brotherhood first commander faces Arthur watching his sword break in half. Arthur drapes Dawn across his back seeing the Smiling Knight crumple to the dirt bleeding out in seconds. _

"_Astonishing Ser so that's what a Valyrian blade can do." _

_ "If you believe it was the Valyrian sword that won this battle and the previous ones you've got more to learn. Come boy there's more work to be done before we return to King's Landing." Jamie watches Arthur ride across the torn battlefield unbelieving a knight rivaled his mentor. The young lion snaps out his daze hearing Ser Barriston's shout for him hurrying to his mentor' s side. _

"Gerold tell us the rest of the tale. I could listen to stories about uncle Arthur all day please sing another."

Gerold throws his feet on the table, "no told you both I'm done talking about Ser Arthur Dayne, we got better things to do this week than being held up here telling old tales of the past."

"I almost forgotten. Gerold are you entering the tournaments? You should sign up before it gets too late."

"What the hell did you think I was doing this morning? I made sure to enter jousting, the fighters pit and of course archery." Gerold slices the skin off an apple having the habit since childhood. "Wonder who's entering this year? All the knights are nameless or too old to fight having become lords years ago. I'm disappointed Jon Snow the Queenslayer and former 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch was recently named Warden of the North—"

Edric coughs pounding his chest downing the food, "the Queenslayer is back in Westeros? How do you know this information Gerold?"

Allyria clutches her dress tightly hearing the news, "don't hold out on us Gerold. The last I heard he was sentenced beyond the wall in exile living with the free folk. The one person who could've slayed the dragon queen saving Westeros from becoming ashes is treated like a criminal."

"The northern soldiers can't keep their fucking mouths shut, they talk as if he's some god. I'll give credit where its due any watchmen who is elected leader of the Night's Watch commands respect. The prideful Northmen talk about him as if he's the greatest swordsman they've ever seen. He returned before the caravan left was named warden going his own way soon after."

"Any idea where he went?"

"Remember Edric he was sentenced by the king himself who's also his brother. I'm sure even if he's fulfilling an obligation I doubt he'd be able to attend. Lord Snow is a fugitive in the crown's eyes." Allyria says.

"Your beautiful mind never ceases to amaze me Allyria." Gerold offers a genuine smile knowing without Allyria House Dayne wouldn't hold as much merit as it stands currently. He isn't blind to his cousin's outward beauty its only a matter of time before suitors around the six other kingdoms in attendance take notice of her. Allyria kept to her silence having rejected marriage proposals for the past three years unwilling to leave Starfall. Edric and himself have always reassured Allyria without her presence their house will falter. Despite the family squabbles they loved each other putting one another's needs before their own. Allyria and Edric are the only two people in the world who mean anything to him. "I asked a northern group while they were scouting a campsite this morning. They kept tight lipped about the situation its obvious where he went."

"You mean he went after the missing Stark sister...The hero of Winterfell, the one who slayed the Night King."

"You know her Edric?"

"No however I was hoping to meet her since the Queen in the North Sansa Stark is in attendance. She saved Westeros from White Walkers, I hope wherever Arya Stark is she got there safely so I can personally thank her. It's because of her Starfall and the rest of Dorne didn't mobilize a resistance militia."

"Rumors say she sailed west, ain't no comin back from that. As for the dead I refuse to believe it until I see it. For all we know the northern pricks could've slaughtered wildlings invading south of the wall due to the Night's Watch dwindling forces and internal dysfunction claiming it to be walkers to hide their crimes and gain notoriety," Gerold pours a third draping an arm over the cushions, "I just hope the competition lives up to its billing otherwise this will be a complete waste of time."

Allyria picks up a lemon throwing it at Gerold. The lemon bounces off the wall hitting Edric. The young lord rubs the aching spot tossing a pear at Gerold hitting his cheek splattering nectar remnants over his face causing Allyria to burst into laughter. Gerold glances at Allyria to Edric who's out of his chair, "I'll give you a head start." Gerold says wiping the remnants chasing his younger cousin around the room as Allyria stands trying to halt their playful nature.

—

**XXX**

—

Tyrion and the small council spread through the brothel mingling with high lords from the six countries. Bronn pulls Tyrion away from the Reach Lords pointing to a booth across the room. "Did you have any idea Oberyn's eldest bastard Doran Martell is here?"

"Yes the new ruler of Dorne taking reign after his uncle and father the previous monarchs. I heard he obtained more money than the crown's treasury. Take full advantage of this moment."

"Don't gotta tell me twice I'm chargin the bastard double. I say we go over there we introduce ourselves. He's technically part of our summit committee who knows maybe he'll be apart of the war council as well."

Doran Martell laughs toasting his table turning to the approaching duo, "Tyrion Lannister the kings hand and I don't recall—"

"Ser Bronn of Highgarden good to meet a fellow ruler such as yourself." Tyrion and Bronn exchange handshakes as the Dornish raise glasses pounding the table.

"Prince Doran if we could speak for a moment in previete..." Tyrion laughs nearly falling to his knees as Bronn hunches over in hysterics. The Dornish table erupt watching their prince regaining his well kept composure. Tyrion uses Bronn leveraging himself up straightening his uniform pouring a drink. "All levity aside we have an urgent matter we need to discuss prince Doran."

"What would that be my lords? As you can see I've already started my party early and I must say Ser Bronn your establishment rivals the best in Sunspear. I had my eye on your merchandise," he says eyeing passing girls throwing him glances, "the girls," Doran roams the room finding a pair of men conversing, "and the boys."

Bronn arches his brows following the Dornish prince's gaze, "the boys ain't mine feel free to have a go for it knock yourself out as for the girls that'll cost you coin." The former sellsword makes a mental note to employ men in his brothels next time the Dornish visit the capital forgetting how open their relations were.

A bird keeps watch behind a column waiting until Doran Tyrion and Bronn leave out to a side patio slipping past lords, wealthy patrons, soldiers and workers running up the stair finding Varys in the place he specified in a message sent that morning. Varys thanks the bird placing silver in his hand sending the kid away unscrolling the small parchment tucking it underneath a sleeve as Davos Podrick and Sam return carrying food trays and wine. Varys stands heading to the stair bidding the other departing pleasantries.

"Where are you going Varys we don't need to return to the council chambers until tonight. Did the king send a message to report now?" Sam asks.

Varys keeps an eye on the passing staff outside their booth, "that won't be necessary I've forgotten to handle a priority of mine this morning before the council meeting. This matter needs my attention I shall rejoin you all later."

"Varys left?" Davos asks. Podrick half asleep sings the name Jeyne repeatedly still holding a full wine cup.

"He said he forgot business earlier and went to tend to it."

"That's strange. Can't recall Varys forgetting anything he's obsessive about minor details."

"Do you think we should follow him you know just in case its important. Doesn't feel right leaving him to his own devices at this time."

"I'm pretending I heard what you said." The master of ships toasts a woozy Podrick biting into a bread loaf, "whatever Varys is up to its no concern of ours, there's plenty we dont know about him. The only thing that matters is he's on our side."

"I'm glad we could come to terms prince Doran." Tyrion says exchanging pleasantries with Dorne's ruler as Bronn does the same quickly wiping his hand off.

"Same Lord Tyrion its in Dorne's best hopes you enjoy the Arbor wine. Dorne lacks the proper necessities to harvest and farm a sustainable crop during our seasons. It means a lot Highgarden will go out of its way feeding our people."

"Enjoy King's Landing I'm sure we'll run into each other during the week." Prince Doran rejoins his boisterous table singing for all too hear.

"That's the last time I do you a favor." Bronn says walking toward an empty table leftover with wine.

"I just filled out our reserve wine cellars for the next two years and you're complaining about it." Tyrion says as Bronn pours a drink, "besides I enjoyed his company much more mild mannered than his uncle Doran yet much less reserved than Oberyn."

"He's the son of a whore end of story—" Bronn is tackled through a table sending Tyrion to the marble floor. The knight kicks table debris aside drawing his sword out its scabbard.

"Get up you piece of shit! I finally get to kill the man who slayed my younger brother Ser Vardis Egen."

Bronn spits blood wiping his nose unable to stop the bleeding. He sits up rising steadily waving off people rushing to aid. "Doesn't ring a bell I've killed a lot of unlucky cunts remind me which one your brother was."

"You fought in a trial by combat for that imp!" Jace Egen shouts pointing at Tyrion. "And you fought dishonorably throwing my brother out the Eyrie moon door. It took weeks to recover a body all that remained was his bones."

"Still not ringing a bell."

Jace approaches Bronn drawing his sword, "I'll cut you to fucking pieces not before I make you remember who my brother was."

"As much as I wish to see a fight at the moment. The fault was mine that day at the Eyrie. Bronn fought as my champion during the trail by combat decreed by Lysa Arryn. It wasn't an accident nor was it intentional either—" Bronn blocks Jace's sword parrying his swings. Bronn evades ducking under the blade circling around a table.

Bronn kicks over a table halting Jace's charge matching sword strikes Jace kicks the overturned table bringing an overhead swing on a retreating Bronn. "Don't run you bastard! Stand your ground ground fight like a man!"

Bronn slashes Jace's chest plates sending steel flying. Soldiers roar pushing Tyrion back circling around the two fighters ensuring they will finish what was started. Sam squints peering over the third story railing, "is that Bronn down there in a fight?"

"What else is new?"

"Shouldn't we go down there and try stopping their duel what if something happens Davos?"

"If he dies he dies Sam I'm looking the other way." Davos gulps away watching Sam drag a half sleep Podrick down the stairs. "Fucking seven hells." Davos snatches a nearby Arbor following the pair.

Bronn never claimed to be a top fighter in Westeros during his tenure content to stand behind Jamie Lannister in terms of swordsmanship. He made his money in successful assassination work building a less than reputable reputation over the years. He never sought to match the strength of the Cleganes, could never match nor find the need to be honorable as the Starks, nor did he have the lust for power as Lannisters did. An underhanded clever assassin is how he made his name 'of the Blackwater.' There is good reason he's the only knight of his name though he'd never admit to it. Jace pursues Bronn pulling out dagger throwing it at the former sellsword forcing him to evade. He unsheathes his own short blades clipped on his belt tossing them at the Vale Knight grazing steel as the last one lodges between Jace's shoulder and arm plate impaling his arm.

Jace removes the dagger tossing them back at the owner hitting the bar table stretching across the back of the main room as Bronn crouches behind taking a quick swig from a half full bottle leaping over the top reengaging their duel taking a more aggressive stance driving Jace back. The crowd roars louder witnessing Bronn disarm the knight placing a blade at his throat. "You're fortunate its the first day of the festivities otherwise I would've gutted you already."

Civilian spectators exit hurrying out the front doors piling onto the pavement hearing horns playing loudly. Most soldiers remain watching Jace take Bronn through another table pulling out a dagger driving it toward Bronn's heart. The blade inches closer as the two struggle. Bronn flips over Jace turning his dagger on him. "Wait wait wait hold on wait—" Bronn shoves the blade tip in his chest silencing the words slamming the hilt forcing it deeper. He hits the blade a final time as Jace falls still. The fellow knights and lords follow the rest in disbelief an exciting battle ended in a dishonorable way.

Bronn sits up swiping a nearby Arbor Gold uncorking it, "didn't need your help, see had it handled." He says wiping the blood off his chin showing the small council.

"One of these days an opportunity like this will present itself when it does I might not help you next time." Tyrion says grinning.

"Good." Bronn replies.

"You got lucky." Davos says eyeing Jace Eger's corpse staining blood into the marble floor. "What do guys suppose we do with him?"

Bronn climbs to his feet pulling out the dagger wiping the blood off. He strides over to Podrick draped on Sam's shoulder barley standing upright slapping him roughly waking the young kingsgaurd. "Bloody hell Bronn what was that for?" Sam questions as Podrick awakens glancing around drunkenly.

"Because I felt like doing it. Come on I need your help this time Pod." Bronn says staring at the body turning blue from blood loss. "Grab the other side I'll take his legs— Sam I'm slapping you next if you puke on my floors." He points to the entrance hauling the body out the back with a stumbling Podrick trailing.

Sam is first outside holding onto a wall puking around the corner. Davos and Tyrion watch the crowd converse about the Stormland banners held high in the air marching toward the Red Keep.

"For fuck's sake it's about time those Stormmen and Mercher lords show up. What's so great about the Stormlands? Lived there my whole life ain't notin there but a bunch of fortresses and small towns surrounded in forestry. Don't even get me started on the weather it changes quicker than a tavern whores feelings at the end of a night."

"You need not remind me I've been on the receiving end plenty of times Lord Davos." Tyrion glances at Sam still leaning on the brothel's stone exterior, "there's no doubt about it the convocation is truly beginning. Houses Mertyn of Mistwood Morrigen of Crow's Nest Grandison of Grandview Swann Dondarrion Connington Selmy Penrose and Wylde. It wouldn't be Westeros's biggest event to date without the Stormlands in attendance. I don't see House Seaworth anywhere they should've due to your status."

"Just because I'm lord and master of ships for the king doesn't mean my house rises in front of these notable ones. Having grown up in the harsh Stormlands I took the first chance to get out of there when I could becoming a merchant trader and I for one am glad for it. Though now that you mention it I don't see Tarth either."

Sam rejoins the pair holding a hand over his chest, "House Tarth informed Brienne they weren't attending a short time after we sent out invitations. Apparently there's been rumors their island is going through civil unrest between the lords and small folk."

Tyrion sips his goblet admiring the bronze armor the Stormmen wear recalling the one time he requested his armor to be made similar only for Tywin to laugh remarking, '_the Baratheon and Tyrell wear Bronze- Tully Stark Arryn wear their silver and Lannisters always wear gold_.' "Well I'll be damned Gendry Baratheon Lord of Storm's End arrives." Tyrion says as they witness him weave through bannermen chanting _ours is the fury _as he rides faster toward their destination. "You've come a long way from being a blacksmith in Flea Bottom bastard. Come on our drinking day is just getting started."

—

**XXX**

—

Greyworm and Daario climb up the dry rocky hillside miles outside Meereen glancing over the edge to the sand dunes hundreds of meters below. Greyworm grabs Daario's outstretched hand hoisting him onto an elevated plateau. "Not much farther now I can hear Drogon we'll reach the summit soon." Daario says dusting himself off leading the way up. "Its good having you back Greyworm city hasn't been the same without you or the Unsullied presence."

"After we left Naath and before I saw Daenerys again I began questioning my purpose for the first time. When we took King's Landing from Queen Cersei I was named commander of her forces. We were supposed to conquer Westeros cleansing the land of its filth. I missed my only chance to save the two who were closest to me. Now Daenerys is queen once more I have hope once again and I'm never failing her again."

Daario offers a nod, "I don't place any blame on you just so you know. I've never cried since I was a child. When I found out what happened I never cried more. Awhile ago I was thinking of leaving Meereen all together going back to leading the second sons into a life of pillaging again. Then our queen made the decision to leave to Westeros. I knew that day was coming we all did, the moment it happened I wanted nothing more than to stay by her side on her crusade through Westeros." Daario chuckles staring up at flames rippling through the air unable to contain a grin, "in the back of my mind I knew it would never work. I'm a greedy sellsword and Daenerys is a queen. I really am starting to sound like Ser Jorah."

Greyworm offers a smile climbing up the steep goat path, "you do sound as Ser Jorah once did," Daario chuckles once more following the Unsullied commanders tracks. "Ser Jorah was the one good honorable man I knew from Westeros. He stayed with our queen sacrificing his life to keep her safe. Its what I should've done as chief commander to her armies."

"Yes Jorah was one of the finest and loyalist men I knew its a shame what happened." Daario grimaces staring at Drogon's wings stretching high in the air, "what was the name of that Targaryen bastard who stuck a knife in Daenerys's heart?"

"His name is Jon Snow of House Stark the next time I see him I'll kill him." Greyworm says taking Daario's aid climbing up the ledge.

"I was about to suggest the same perhaps we should make a competition of it."

Greyworm smiles, "that's the best suggestion I've heard in awhile." They continue their ascent nearly at the top having reached past the point of receiving proper oxygen slowing their progress.

Daario glances at Greyworm frowning slightly, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Should it mean anything I just want to say I'm sorry, truly I am my friend."

"I appreciate your condolences. My only regret is I didn't have an opportunity to fulfill a promise I made returning Missandei to Naath a free woman. Nothing like that will come along again for me that part of my life is over."

"Take it from a piece of shit like me its never too late to change your mind." The pair stand meters from Drogon diving away from boulders tumbling down the mountain smashing a ram sending the herd down the elevated hills. Fire erupts in the sky as the duo reach Daenerys laying on Drogon's back staring out a Meereen in the distance. "My queen are you up there?"

Daenerys appears after a moment sliding down Drogon landing on the ground as he roars at her commanders. She places a hand on his snout silencing him. "What are you both doing here? You chased after me all the way from Meereen."

"We had to ensure your safety first my queen." Daario says moving aside as Greyworm steps forward unable to take his eyes off Daenerys.

The pair share an embrace. "I still can't believe you're alive Greyworm I'm so relieved." Daenerys pulls away meeting his gaze, "I'm so sorry about what happened I had wanted to be there if only I'd known—"

Greyworm shakes his head, "you don't owe me an apology my queen I should be apologizing to you for allowing what happened in Kings Landing I failed you." The Unsullied commander glances to the horizon toward the bay beyond Meereen. "I couldn't give Missandei a proper burial. Her native island is inhabited by poisonous butterflies killing anyone not born there."

Daenerys glances at her feet recognizing her own feelings for Missandei, "we both failed my friend." Daenerys sighs recalling the first time they met. "She's an irreplaceable part of my life as I know she will always be in yours my friend."

Greyworm nods placing hands behind his back. "I'm glad to be back my queen once again I pledge myself to your service."

"Shall we return to Meereen your grace I'm sure your hand is eager to stand beside you. She's sent ravens to the rulers from the Dragon Bay cities who should be arriving in a few days. We best prepare as soon as we return."

Daenerys smiles glancing between the pair as she climbs on Drogon assisting Daario up as her commander remains unmoved from his position. "What are you waiting for Greyworm Drogon doesn't bite I assure you."

Greyworm stands taller raising his chin, "all due respect my queen I'm going to take the long way back to Meereen I don't fare well with heights."

"I command you to climb onto Drogon."

"Is this an order?"

"Yes."

Greyworm grimaces glancing at Daenerys's playful smile unable to resist returning it. Greyworm sits behind Daenerys noticing Daario lounging grabbing onto a spike releasing a yawn, "word of advice don't look down whatever you do." Greyworm doesn't have any time to adjust as Drogon soars in the atmosphere bursting through the cloudscape.

Daenerys glances at Greyworm his eyes remain shut tightly. "Go ahead look Greyworm its alright." Daenerys says holding her arms out. Greyworm opens his eyes slowly peering over Daenerys's shoulder unable to believe how high they are flying. Daenerys smiles warmly at the pair pulling on Drogon's spike sending them into a free fall jetting toward Meereen's pyramid.

—

**XXX**

—

Jon stands on the Lonely Light islands cliff side staring out west at a distant coastal rock hosting a family of sea lions protruding through the waves. Lord Farwynd informed them there is nothing beyond their house's isle except a few small islands with nothing but houses belonging to their people. It took a week for Yara and him to sail to this point he can only assume it will take a lot more time to find Arya across the Sunset Sea. He glances at Yara and a host of Farwynd soldiers escorting Euron and Moqorro below the Iron Victory's deck.

It would've been simple leaving Euron and Moqorro imprisoned or better yet executing them saving him trouble. However he trusts Yara if she says Euron's the best sailor on earth who the hell's he to go against her word he needs to find Arya before its too late.

Jon watches the Farwynd men load the vessel with supplies tossing ropes on deck rolling barrels into the hull. The rest of the Iron Islands consider Farwynd people queer. Its said they had strange mystical connections to their Drowned God having been given the ability to skin change into all types of sea creatures. The longer he stays here the more he begins to believe the rumors the Iron Islands is cursed as the Northerners would say. He supposes it doesn't matter the Ironborn also told stories of Krakens, Leviathans and Sea Dragons roaming the Sunset Sea. This only fuels his determination to sail toward Essos searching every corner in order to reach Arya. "Lord Snow preparations to your ship is nearly complete. It was an honor hosting you after all you've done for the Iron Islands." Jon shakes Lord Farwynds hand thanking him before he departs returning to his fortress.

Jon glances around the Iron Victory admiring the Vessel having been informed it was the fastest and most durable among the fleet. He strolls to the bridge placing a hand on the wheel staring out at endless open ocean. "That's my spot Lord Snow." Yara says coming from below deck taking position.

"Anything I can do? I'm not much help don't know a whole lot about sailing."

"Thats alright Lord Snow. I'll handle it until we sail a few days from here. Can you handle being first mate?"

"I was taught by former lord commander if I want to learn to lead I should follow. I'll help you in anyway I can. It can come in handy if I happen to set sail again one day."

"Alright then Lord Snow do the honors and unfurl the sails." Jon nods striding you the main deck pulling the ropes off the masts tying them down setting the Iron Victory in motion gliding along the waves leaving House Farwynd and the Iron Islands behind. He stands at the ship helm praying Arya will wait for him wherever she's at.


	11. Field of Fire

_King Aerys's personal guards stalk the Red Keep's dungeon passing prison cells infested with rats gnawing at rotting corpses. They turn the corner halting outside the largest cell holding northern prisoners. _

"_Lord Stark the king demands you face your trial by combat." _

_Rickard places his armor on glancing at the northern soldiers who accompanied him on the journey to the capital. The guards lead Rickard and the others out the dungeon into the throne room. _

_Aerys sits on the Iron Throne beside Jamie Lannister and Varys staring down the northerners reuniting with each other. "Rickard Stark, Brandon Stark. You both stand accused attempting to murder the crown prince. In response for this crime you Lord Stark requested a trial by combat and you shall have it." _

_Rickard glances at Brandon surveying hundreds of southern lords lining the walls. "Who shall I fight then Aerys? One of the Kingsguard, the Lannister perhaps?" _

"_You will not fight any Kingsgaurd nor any southern lord under my command. I choose fire as my champion." Brandon and Rickard draw their swords surrounded by Aerys's soldiers. The mad king waves a hand summoning pyromancers out the keeps corridors escorted by more guards. _

_The pryomancers servants roll in a large boiling pot above wildfire. Rickard is hooked under his shoulder plates hoisted in the air ascending to the rafters. "What is the meaning—" A rope is thrown around Brandon's throat tied to a nearby column. The rafter chains are locked onto wooden mechanisms descending Rickard. _

"_You have a chance to save your father young wolf." Aerys nods to his guards as one tosses Brandon's sword on the floor. "You only need to reach your weapon then free yourself and your father." _

"_My king please don't do this, I beg of you." Varys says leaning in Aerys's ear, "the realm needs the King in the North and its rightful heir should you do this war will inevitably—" _

"_Enough Lord Varys I will hear no more of this—" Jamie witnesses the exchange returning his attention to Rickard shouting at Aerys as Brandon lunges forward grasping the rope around his neck. The southern lords remain unmoved unbelieving the events unfolding in front of them. The conversations abundant before the Starks arrival are silent one can hear a mouse roaming._

_Brandon chokes gasping for air pulling at the noose around his throat reaching an arm out for his sword. Rickard's curses turn to screams descending halfway feeling the wildfire's heat rise throughout the room. _

"_My king I'm begging you do not do this. This is a mistake." _

"_One more word out of you Lord Varys and you'll be the next one strung up to burn." _

_Rickard screams less than a few meters from the pot as the southern lords turn away witnessing the material scorch catching fire melting the King in the North's flesh. Brandon fades in and out of consciousness grazing the blades hilt. A guard kicks the sword out of reach receiving a nod from Aerys. Brandon witnesses his father descend in the wildfire shouting for help from the gods. Blood leaks out Brandon's eyes, nose, and ears his hand reaching the bottom of his sword. Rickard's screams halt as he's roasted alive. Tears and blood fall from Brandon's face "Eddard...Forgive...Me." Brandon collapses on the throne room floor dying alongside his father. _

_Aerys leans on the Iron Throne releasing a sigh, "my kingdom is secure as is my son Rhaegar's place as my heir." Nobody else speaks nor moves too shook by the Stark's demise. Jamie and Varys are unable to look at their king staring at the silent throne room. "This is the fate of all my enemies and those who attempt to usurp my family's name." Aerys rises to his feet glaring at the southern lords, "the Targaryens will rule over Westeros for an eternity! I am destined to be reborn a dragon! My fire will cleanse this earth to those who oppose the crown from now until the end of history!" The southern lords and guards kneel swearing fealty. Jamie and Varys share a glance staring at the king signaling the room to rise. Varys leaves the throne room bowing lowly. Jamie places a hand on his hilt stepping toward Aerys. Aerys retakes the throne halting Jamie, "after that beautiful display I need wine. Squire! Bring me wine!" Jamie doesn't take his gaze off Aerys questioning now more than ever if the realm Varys spoke of would fare better without Aerys and prosper under Rhaegar. One thing he knows is their king is going mad and someone needs to put a stop to it should his actions continue. _

The Red Keep's throne room piles with the kingdom's great lords sitting at their designated tables conversing in preparation for the opening ceremony. The small council enter quieting the chatter sitting at their table lined across where the Iron Throne resided. Bran surveys the throne room recognizing every lord in the room, "Good evening Lordesses and Lords. I thank you all for making the long trips from your homes. I assure you this won't happen often. The council had unanimously approved to create these week long festivities. As I'm sure you're aware I'm the Three Eyed Raven. Every past event in recorded history resides at my fingertips. I'm not a fortune teller I can only use what's come before to assume what will happen. I've scratched the surface in terms of searching and filtering through past events in my travels I came to a single conclusion. Internal conflict between nations caused wars to decimate our lands. Its our hope this week brings better understanding of each other's cultures and customs forming alliances that weren't established before." Bran gazes once more around the room smiling recognizing Sansa sitting at the Northern tables front returning it. "First order of business is announcing the kingsgaurd members who'll serve alongside our current members Brienne of Tarth and Ser Podrick Payne."

Brienne stands from her seat glancing across the table, "we'd like to thank and congratulate the lords and recipients of the greatest honor a knight can ask for, I realize it isn't easy parting with a loyal knight willing to sacrifice everything to serve you. Hailing out the Stormlands serving as Gendry Baratheon's personal guard Ser Jayce from House Swann." The Stormland table roars to life toasting the seasoned warrior. "The Vale's first shield Harrold Hardyng of House Hardyng." Valeman cheer saluting their commander none louder than Robin and Yohn. "Serving as Highgarden's city watch commander Ser Kaden." The Reach table cheer on their capital city commander raising their wine glasses as Bronn whistles standing from his seat. "And hailing from Dorne Llewelyn Sand the desert viper." Llewelyn claps Doran's shoulder spinning the double edge spear around his body showing off for the room. "The Kingsgaurd stand in front of the room receiving an ovation retaking their seat after giving a bow. The council converse amongst each other as Davos steps to the front.

"I realize your journies were difficult traveling across the seas. The council voted we mobilize a navy to represent the crownship. A total of three hundred fifty five ships are docked in the harbors. We need experienced captains and sailors available to manage ships we've prepared to patrol the seas defending the capital from invaders. There is a potential sailing an armada to Essos in attempt to negotiate trade. We need soldiers aiding our city watch and free cities are always need ships. We can't continue operating without a navy guarding our coastlines. So this week we put together a sail competition in Blackwater until reaching the set marker vessels. The winners will be inducted into the king's navy. I look forward to seeing you all this week." Davos sits sipping wine watching Varys rereading a parchment.

Varys whispers to Bran receiving an affirmative nod standing in front of the throne room. "You've seen over the years I've served many kings and numerous councils. I hope you know I've always sought to serve the realm regardless of who's ruled over our nations. There are people living under you all who hold no lands, titles, only having their name. Those people are just as important as you or I no matter what the current state of affairs we must think our citizens safety first. Its within your right to know Daenerys Targaryen is alive and currently ruling over Meereen—"

"This is outrageous!"

"When were we going to be informed?!"

"Were you ever going to inform us?!"

"If I may continue my lords and lordesses this matter wasn't disclosed to cause panic and dissent among the citizens. I assure you our city defenses have been modified to accommodate an attack should the mother of dragons decide to fly over the Narrow Ssa attacking the city once more. We have closely monitored Meereen and its queen. The city was invaded by Illario Payne, a lord who betrayed his word to reenforce our armies with the Golden Company. Instead he tried brokering a deal with Daenerys to hand over her remaining dragon to him in exchange for the army under his command. Daenerys and her forces managed to overcome the invasion reforming the Golden Company with the Second Sons and Unsullied. Their numbers stand around fifteen thousand looking to recruit troops around Dragon Bay cities in the upcoming days." Chatter erupts around the room as lordesses and lords question one another. "It isn't our intention to alarm. A reason why we didn't inform anyone in our invitational letters. Should that happened we wouldn't have been able to hold this convocation. More importantly I say all this for new information that has arisen recently from the Iron Islands."

The Ironborn converse amongst themselves glancing at the other tables in silent contemplation. "Euron Greyjoy survived the King's Landing siege having been healed by Moqorro a red priest who served Victarion Greyjoy. You can rest assured now your home is safe." Sansa smiles witnessing the Ironborn embracing each other relaxing in her seat. "Euron and Moqorro hold possession of a dragon horn capable of summoning and binding all who hear its call to them. The second issue is ominous, a rumor. There are more dragon eggs residing out in the world Far East. I'm sure most of you haven't heard the story of Asshai. A mysterious place with even stranger customs, the importance lies in the information wild dragons far larger than Drogon exist in the world and is the most reasonable place the next generation of dragons lay dormant. I want nothing more to tell you the realm is in a state of peace. There are too many enemies existing outside of Westeros to say that."

Varys returns to his seat a moment unscrolling another parchment holding it for all to see, "this arrived shortly after we dismissed our council meeting hours ago. Yi-Ti's three god emperors held their own convocation months earlier gathering a hundred princes ruling providences around the country as they see fit. For those who don't know it's completely understandable. Yi-Ti is a nation and region east of Qarth and the Bone Mountains bordered by the Jade Sea to the south. North of Yi-Ti are the great Sand Sea, Shrinking Sea, and Bleeding Sea; a great river runs south from the Bleeding Sea through Yi-Ti are the mountains of the Morn, Shadow Lands, and Asshai. The YiTish wrote this to us because of grey plague that swept over their lands killing many people. They seek to protect even the poorest people despite boasting immense wealth among their nobles. I ask that we welcome the YiTish in our countries trade medicine for wine, silks, and spices. This can be quite the opportunity to bring Yi-Ti out of their century long isolationism. They contain knowledge of the first literate text to exist in the world should we help them I don't see why they wouldn't return." Varys returns to his chair tucking a smaller parchment into a sleeve bearing the Stark Sigil.

Bronn strides to the council table front. "Lot of you probably seen me hanging round a brothel drinking wine. Believe it or not that that isn't all I do unfortunately. Serving under King Bran as Master of Coin has been an honor. Can't say it matches the excitement being a sellsword. The duties of the Master of Coin include keeping account of receipts and expenditures from the royal treasury receiving reports from officials, supervising the collection of taxes and custom duties, borrowing money, managing the royal treasury and supervising the three Royal mints. The Master of Coin oversees a large number of offices; Keeper of the Keys, the King's Counter, the King's Scales the officers in charge of mints, harbor masters, tax farmers, custom sergeants, wool factors, toll collectors pursuers and most important wine factors. We need workers to fill and train for these positions. The pay is good, you drink on the job but you have to sacrifice a lot of time giving up the things you want most." Bronn refills the cup nearby retaking his seat at the council table.

Sam shuffles to the front of the room, "good evening everybody, for those who don't know. I'm Samwell Tarly of House Tarly at Hornhill. Its my duty as the king's Grand Maester to be the citadel representative at the royal court. I wasn't voted by the Citadel's Conclave necessarily through hard work and dedication I received this." Sam holds out his link chain, "each different metals are each a different kind of learning, gold for the study of money and accounts, silver for healing, iron for warcraft. And he said there were other meanings as well. The collar is reminding me a Maester of the realm he serves. Lords are gold and knights steel but two links can't make a chain. You also need silver iron lead tin copper and all the rest and those are farmer smiths and merchants and the like. A chain needs all sorts of people. The Maesters in OldTown aren't getting any younger. They need people willing to study Westerosi and our world history shaping what we remember in our songs. It doesn't pay my brother Dickon told me knowledge is power and its the duty of incoming Maesters to use this essential power for the good of the realm."

Tyrion takes Sam's place surveying old and familiar faces. "I know most of you are expecting me to detail my duties as hand of the king. I'm not going to do that. Throughout my life I was always told I was good at talking so I suppose I'll do just that. I'm going to tell a story that fascinated me growing up, some of you may have heard it some of you may not. This is the story of the Field of Fire.

_Loren I Lannister rides with more than twenty thousand House Lannister and Westford soldiers riding to the outskirts the seat of House Rowan, Goldengrove. The king's army halts beside a river flowing south to Highgarden. "Its a days travel to Silverhill my king. Are you sure its safe traveling north considering the odds we're up against?" Armory Westford asks settling his horse beside Loren. _

_Loren glances at the Golden Lion etched on a red field banner turning to Goldengrove's gates opening. "We have more than twenty thousand, King Mern has thirty thousand I'll take those odds no matter who we oppose Lord Westford." _

_Mern IX Gardener King of the Reach and Lord of Highgarden emerge following his two sons. His heir Edmund and Gawen leading the banners and vanguard beside their father. The Order of the Greenhand trail the royal family boasting a Green Hand sigil on a white field. They're an elite order of knights founded by House Gardener consisting of soldiers from Houses Oakheart, Florent, Rowan, Peakes, and Redwynes. Only the most skilled and virtuous warriors are granted to this order considering themselves the fiercest soldiers in the Seven Kingdoms. _

"_Lord Lannister, Lord Westford." Mern stops his horse raising a hand commanding the gardener forces to follow suit. "I trust you prepared your armies to battle the crown's armada. This is going to be the toughest challenge we'll face, should we succeed they'll sing songs about it for years to come." _

"_Rest assured we'll overwhelm the Targaryen forces. We have more than fifty thousand troops they barley have have more than ten thousand." _

"_You mustn't forget about the Targaryen King's dragon. Should the beast roam free over the battlefield it could be a short day for both our armies." Mern says nodding toward his sons. "I'm sure we'll have plenty of time discussing battle plans on the way. I'd like to introduce my sons Edmund my oldest and heir to my kingdom someday," Edmure shakes the Westerland lords hands, "my second Gawen commands my bannermen." Gawen mirrors his older brothers gesture clutching the Gardener banner tighter. _

"_We'll travel the Goldroad north, camp northeast of Silverhill arriving by nightfall should we leave now." Loren says whipping the reins driving his horse leading the two armies. _

_Night descends on the Gardener and Lannister army settling in their encampment prepping their horses gears and strategies. Soldiers roam camp ready at a moments notice to charge into battle. The commanders tent is where the war council resides running through their plan a final time. Loren, Mern IX, Edmund, Gawen Gardener, Oakheart, Westford, and the other allied lords. Loren moves the Oakheart and Westford armies across the map east. "If what we know about the Targaryens is true we'll assume the king will assess our formation before taking to the sky. Obviously we can't let that happen we need to break through the Targaryen's defensive formation." _

"_I'm honored to be given the honor of charging first my lords however the Targaryen weaponry consists mostly of long spears and oval shields. Primitive eastern weaponry has no place in a western battle." _

"_I agree Lord Oakheart. It can potentially be a risk charging head on into a spear formation." Armory says. _

"_Don't worry yourself Lord Westford that's where the Order of the Greenhand comes into play, they're the ace up our sleeve." Mern IX crosses arms leaning back staring at the carved pieces representing their army. "We simply charge behind you my lords and burst through the Targaryens middle formation. Everything has a breaking point there isn't an army that's invincible not even the Targaryen's consider themselves to be." _

"_That can work my lords, we need to make sure we break through creating a sure path to the king's dragon." Speaks Head of House Florent. _

_Loren nods moving the Order of Greenhand pieces through the Targaryen's center converging the rest on the enemy forces. Once we create a weakness exposing it to the fullest thats when we'll overwhelm the enemy taking Westeros back from those incestuous foreign bastards." He slams hands on the table as the lords pour wine drinking to the plan set in place. The lords laugh conversing amongst each other departing minutes later resting for the upcoming battle leaving Mern and Loren. _

"_You know I wasn't sure what to make of this whole alliance when you first came to the Reach however I can say for certain we made the right decision allying our forces with yours." _

"_I share the same sediments. Let's hope both our armies make it out relatively unscathed this will be far different than any battle beforehand." _

_Mern gazes over the war table's map, "I look forward to our victory tomorrow." He's out the Lannister tent before Loren can utter another word. Loren downs his wine smashing the dragon piece. _

_The Two King army arrives South of Blackwater marching through the plains. The king's troops are established in a defense crescent formation little more than a hundred meters away. Allied forces take position circling around showing their overwhelming forces. Loren places on a golden Lannister helmet nodding to the lords of Oakheart and Westford. Arys and Armory raises their swords leading bannermen in a six rowed charge directly at the Targaryen's middle. Armory kicks his horse's sides speeding ahead as the king's forces raise spears holding steady. The Two King army crashes into the Targaryens formation sending calvary flying off horses. Armory falls from his horse slashing the nearest man's throat. He evades a thrown spear as it pierces an ally's chest killing him. Amory presses forward past calvary slamming into the formation. "Push forward!" He yells parrying a Targaryen's blade shoving it in a nearby archer's neck. Arys swings his axe killing four soldiers overhand tossing it into another's thigh halting his movements. He grabs the longspear plunging it through the enemy's chest shouting for all to hear. Armory glances around noting their forces overwhelmed by the Targaryen's formation tightening once more. _

_Armory presses forward picking up a fallen shield blocking a lunge knocking over a pair of charging soldiers stabbing one's lung slamming the shield into the others throat crushing his windpipe spraying blood. A Targaryen soldier tackles Armory to the grass raising his sword grasping at the axe stuck in his spine. Arys yanks the axe out slashing another warrior offering Armory a hand up. _

_The two stand back to back charged up at the approaching Targaryen soldiers. The pair parry the enemies attacks slicing them down giving their second calvary charge a window to proceed. "Forward!" The second commander yells raising the Lannister banner up pointing to a thin path leading into the Targaryen formation's secondary and third columns. Lannister calvary ride through the opening slashing Targaryens warriors unable to adjust to the battle's sudden pace change. _

_Armory slashes a soldiers throat open grabbing a hold of his collar as arrows pierce the corpse. Armory shoves the soldiers into longspears. The allied forces notice Armory's actions quickly following suit tossing live soldiers and corpses onto the longspears weighing down the Targaryen warriors. Arys leaps off a corpse slashing past the third row cutting down the soldier's backs slashing their calves lowering the forces more allowing calvary to bypass the row throwing bodies in the air. Arrows fly into the air taking the aiding riders as more allied foot soldiers break through battling the retreating formation recognizing the tide is shifting. _

_Arys backfists an approaching soldier recognizing an approaching soldier recognizing the shield and spear Targaryens space two feet allowing their broadsword militia to charge confronting the allied forces for the first time. Armory slashes through a pair of Targaryen grunts spinning cutting down another. His wrist is consumed in a metal chain halting his sword strike. A dragon helmet warrior carrying a sledge smashes past soldiers in one hand pulling Armory to him. Armory unsheathes a Lannister dagger tossing it piercing the knights arm forcing the chain in the dirt. The Valyrian armor knight grips the hammer in two hands swinging wildly smashing a soldiers cracking his ribs. Armory ducks underneath a strike stumbling back evading an overhead slam. He slashes the Knight's Valyrian armor unbelieving his sword took the most damage out the exchange. Armory rolls snatching a deceased ally's shield blocking the hammer digging boots in the ground. The Targaryen warrior smashes repeatedly cracking the shield. Arys's horse runs the knight over trampling him into the dirt. The Targaryen reaches for his hammer as Armory snatches it first smashing his skull releasing another war cry rallying the allies continuing to battle the unyielding Targaryen soldiers. _

_Loren Lannister and Mern IX Gardener watch the battle side by side as their plan proceeds accordingly. "It's time Mern. Your call." Mern nods at the Order of the Greenhand sending them parading through the field in an orderly fashion led by his second son Gawen. The younger Gardener races toward the opening in the formation. This is all part of the plan once it opens they will eventually break through. "Hold steady!" Gawen rears the Gardener banner behind him throwing it through a Targaryen horse rider bursting through the formation's opening stretching it. _

_The Targaryen broadsword militia clash with the Order of Greenhand Knights overwhelmed in seconds. The order train for wars years round receiving only two leaves during that time hardly committed themselves to families or forgoing spare hobbies to pursue a life of constant battles. War is all they know. The only thing they want. Now the opportunity is at hand to end the Targaryen's reign before it truly begins. _

_Arrows Gawen's horse's knees sending him crashing into the dirt rolling to his feet parrying a charging soldier spinning slashing dodging a second parade of arrows pinning the forces behind him. Gawen grabs a shield ramming a trio knocking the group into the grass. He recovers slicing a soldier's throat blocking another's strike sticking the helmet spike through a third's mouth shoving him to the grass. He stumbles parrying a grunt as the Greenhand knights slay the broadsword assassins yelling out exuberance leaping over the dead Targaryens still holding their spear and shields under the corpses. Gawen trails the Order running to Lord Oakheart and Armory's position cutting through the Targaryen's defense. _

_Armory, Arys and Gawen work in tandem fighting through a second more vicious wave of warriors using eastern weaponry. Smoke bombs explode on impact halting the allies forward progress. Arys swings his axe wildly witnessing an ally cut down unable to block two swords piercing though his sternum. The spears and king shield Targaryen forces march condensing the battle using their weapons superior length to stab past the allied defenses. The Targaryen broadsword militia slash through the Order Knights pushing them back. _

_Loren Lannister grimaces seeing their progress halted by the Targaryen's foreign tactics in use for the first time. "Launch the catapults." He says to Edmund as his son rides off alerting the commanders at the end of the squadron lines to fire away waving the Gardener flag. The catapults hurl boulders in the air smashing into Targaryen shield carriers holding the front lines. Loren, Mern, Edmund and the others yell out as their comrades continue their assault._

_Gawen dives out a crashing boulders path hoisted up by Armory and Arys blocking a lunging spearman as the Targaryen armies fourth and fifth rows leave their steady positions taking to the offensive for the first time. Armory is pierced through his side grasping at the shredded armor plate. "Keep moving we have to break through no matter the cost!" Armory shouts parrying soldiers slashing a spear in half. The pair continue with the Greenhand Knights pushing through the formation center as they make it to a point seeing the hillside behind the Targaryen forces. Gawen leads the charge cutting through a grunts neck spraying blood. _

_The Targaryens only ally Jon Mooton of House Mooton of Maidenpool located in the eastern Riverlands situated alongside the southern shore. He was the first lord to come over to the Targaryens side and given command of a their forces. A known traitor among his people of Westeros who should've been fighting for the Two King army however feared the dragon rider ruling over Westeros. "Lord Mooton what do we do? The allied forces are breaking through the Targaryen defenses." _

_Jon witnesses the Order of Greenhand slashing mercilessly through the Targaryen knights penetrating their once thought invincible defense. He's seen the Order in action once before during a battle at Harrenhal between the forces stationed there. It wasn't a sight to remember, the Order would've successfully taken Harrenhal had it not been for Lord Gardener taking initiative stopping the knights before it got out of hand. Jon settles his horse exhaling, "show the Targaryens what we're capable of!" He raises his sword swiveling his horse toward the Mooton army, "this will be the day we prove our worth to the crown, to the future of Westeros!" Jon rides down the northeast speeding to the ensuing battle. _

_Jon slashes through the first knight rescuing an ally sending his bannermen into a frenzy. The Mooton infantry consists mostly of carpenters, tilers, and lower class workers tending pedestrian jobs. They were fierce and tenacious but not soldiers as the Order of the Greenhand knights, they are more attuned to brawlers. One thing is evident the moment they enter the fray, the Mooton forces sure knew how to make an awful mess of things. Jon leaps from his horse cutting down knights evading a bronze tipped lance as it pierces a soldier's neck. _

_Armory stumbles beside the knights catching a glimpse of Jon slicing through their warriors. Jon grasps a soldier's collar yanking him back clashing against Armory parrying his stab. "Lord Moonton. Didn't think I'd see a traitorous cunt like you here thought you'd be hiding away where it's safe." _

"_I wouldn't miss this slaughter. You believe your fighting for the right side but you'd be wrong in thinking that." _

"_You're insane if you think fighting for the side of the Targaryens is the right thing to do. You know as well as I do they'll burn everything we built—" _

_Jon pushes Armory struggling against his strength "what do you mean? The Targaryen king promised us peace, he said he'd keep his word." _

"_And you're stupid enough to believe the word of a foreign invader that hasn't a clue about our traditions, customs, or people...Perhaps the Targaryen madness has spread to you." _

"_I've heard enough out of your cunt mouth." Jon slashes matching Armory's intensity. The pair lunge piercing a Targaryen soldier dropping the swords unable to wretch it free from his rib cage. Jon picks up a spear lunging at Armory sending him stumbling. Armory grabs the nearest sword clashing against Jon as the Targaryen loyalists remained stunned unable to believe Westford's lord parried his strike. _

_Arys and Gawen climb over a row of boulders leaping on the battlefield noticing the Targaryen forces sides begin to converge suffocating their army in the path they created to get to this point. "Don't stop you mongrels, Victory is upon us!" Gawen pushes past a shouting Arys cutting past approaching broadsword calvary evading a longspear using a spin stabbing the Targaryen soldier through the guy screaming 'onward.'_

"_The times almost come to make our last move. Once we break through the Targaryen king will be helpless to stop us." Mern IX says nodding to his son preparing their bannerman for the final assault. _

_Behind the Targaryens Aegon I the Conquerer stands beside Balerion 'the Black Dread' Aegon rests a hand on Balerion surveying the Two King forces rush through an opening in their formation. "The time is almost upon us my friend for now rest easy." He pets Balerion staring at Leron Lannister and Mern IX Gardener across the field. _

_Arys throws a charging soldier over a shoulder. Arys and Gawen lead the charge waving the Greenhand bannermen forward through the ninth and tenth rows. The pair evade spears closing in killing off knights slinging maces breaking through the knights armor. Arys parries a broadsword piercing a grunt's throat pushing him into another escaping a lunge flowing with the knights. _

_Loren leads forty thousand soldiers spanning the length of the field curving the ends of their formation rushing ahead of the two kings placing them in the center. The army stampedes tightening their lines rushing to the small opening. Edmund rides up front raising the Gardener banner speeding toward their objective. They cross the halfway point increasing pace shouting out a war cry. Mern draws his sword seeing his heir nearly at the Targaryen frontlines. _

_Fire spreads across the field consuming Edmund and their army's helm creating a wall between them and the Targaryen soldiers. The two king army halts scattering in every direction hitting each other trying to escape. Loren's horse throws him off darting south with a host of warriors. The fleeing soldiers are scorched in Balerion's fire forcing the allied army to change direction as smoke fills the air beginning to block the sunlight. Catapults strike Balerion forcing the dragon away from the field of battle. Mern stares at the spot Edmund burned away glaring up at Balerion circling around for an attack run. Visenya Targaryen rides Vhagar across the northern field trapping their army. "Retreat! Retreat!" Mern shouts riding through the burning field in attempt to find Gawen. He glances at the sky, "this is impossible, three fully grown dragons." Rhaenys Targaryen rides Meraxes spraying fire through their army sending Mern crashing to the dirt. _

_Loren slashes through a Targaryen soldier pushing past smoke as the Targaryen dragons roar overhead. Lannister and Gardener soldiers stumble out the smoke their armor melting into their scarred burns. The two king army are in disarray scrambling for any possible way out. Balerion's shadow encompasses the field raining hellfire onto the allies. Aegon keeps an eye on Visenya and Rhaenys staying in range within one another. _

_Loren finds his archers pointing at Meraxes and Vhagar working in tandem bursting through the clouds diving to finish them. Visenya races ahead of Rhaenys aiming for the Lannister archers. Loren holds an arm up keeping his gaze trained on the dragons. "Aim." The archers nock arrows pulling back bowstrings. "Steady." The archers glance at each other as heat rises all around. "Steady." The dragons nosedive closing in on Loren and the Lannister archers. "Fire!" Arrows launch through the sky hurling toward the sister dragon riders._

_Rhaenys pulls back flying away as Visenya presses on evading the parade of arrows clutching her shoulder feeling an arrow pierce through the black Valyrian armor. Loren grabs a horse telling the archers to escort the injured taking them to safety wherever the fuck that was. Loren jumps on a horse riding through fire and smoke grabbing a lance plunging it through Targaryen and Moonton soldiers. Jon rides the opposing direction raising a lance as Loren does the same. The combatants smash the spears into each others shoulders falling from their horses watching soldiers emerge out the flames roasting before their eyes. Loren clashes against Jon parrying the fast strikes as flames sprays from the three dragons surrounding the field of fire. Jon stumbles unable to counter Loren's swordplay. Anger boils through the king of the rock witnessing his forces burn alive. Loren hurls a nearby axe knocking Jon to the ground stabbing him through the gut. Jon clutches the wound staring at Loren, "go on what you waitin for—Fuck Lannister you really don't know what you're in for." _

_Loren glides the sword over Jon's throat. "I should kill you slowly, if I were to do it quickly it'd be too good for the likes of you." _

_Jon spits blood on Loren's boots, "I did what I had to in order to ensure my people's safety. Look around you Loren do you call this doing what's best for your people? You got them killed Lord Mooton." _

_Loren applies pressure on the blade drawing blood, "you desire to die not by hand. I want you to recognize you're in the wrong siding with the Targaryens. No matter the outcome of the battle how long do you think it will be before they burn you as they have us." Loren climbs on his horse riding toward the Targaryen army. _

_Mern sprints through the field leaping over a pile of corpses slashing Targaryen spearmen shouting for his son. Two grunts tackle him to the ground one holds him down as the other raises a spear. Arys cuts down the two hoisting his king to his feet. "Appreciate the assistance." Mern coughs in an arm staring up at Balerion, Meraxes and Vhagar roaring circling the sky awaiting the smoke to clear. "I hate to ask especially now of all times, help me find my son." Arys and Mern charge into smoke in search of their comrades. _

_Aegon regroups with Rhaenys and Visenya miles from the battlefield landing their dragons allowing them to feed on wild sheep while the two king army suffers in the fire field. Rhaenys clutches Visenya carrying her to Aegon rushing to aid, "Visenya your shoulders bleeding. What happened out there Rhaenys?" _

_Rhaenys struggles to speak holding her older sister's bleeding shoulder, "The fault was mine Aegon. I charged recklessly into the enemies firing line trying to bury their forces earlier than I anticipated." _

_Aegon slings his wife's arm over a shoulder sitting her on a boulder kneeling at her side, "why would you do something like that? You know how important you both are to me. You're my sisters and my wives if anything happens to you two." _

"_Don't blame yourself over things you don't have any control over." _

"_She's right Aegon it's not it's not the first time we've taken injury in battle." Rhaenys says letting her long hair loose sitting next to Visenya. _

"_You're right. This is conquest not a single battle. This is only the beginning we have to prepare for the northern invaders marching south." _

_Visenya adjusts her Valyrian sword Dark Sister settling it next to her, "we need to finish this rebellion now Aegon." _

"_You two are done today. Fly to King's Landing and I'll return after the campaign ends." Aegon climbs on Balerion flying to finish what they started. _

_Arys and Mern run through smoke passing charred soldiers burnt beyond recognition. Mern slashes the Targaryen soldiers weaving through groups joining up with the smaller militia having survived Balerion's first attack run emerging relatively unscathed. "Gawen!" Mern spins out a thrown spear rolling into a pierce running a soldier through kicking him off the sword. "Gawen!" _

_Arys notices a looming shadow approaches from the south. Gawen stabs a soldier slicing through his spine hearing his father's voice calling to him. "Father!" _

"_Gawen!" _

_The smoke clears giving Mern a glimpse of his son and the remaining Order of the Greenhand Knights. Balerion incinerates the group hurling fire through the army sending Mern to his knees. Arys grabs the Reach king as he remains unresponsive staring at the spot where his last remaining son was burned. Mern shouts at the sky fighting Arys's hold._

"_No my king the army needs you alive! The Order of the Greenhand is gone your sons are gone without you House Gardener vanishes that's why its imperative you make it out alive." _

"_That doesn't matter anymore we're all dead either way, this battle is lost." Mern says seeing Balerion spray fire streaks on their soldiers retreating west. The Gardener soldiers are burned alongside the Lannister as Targaryen and Mooton warriors. Mern draws his sword seeing the enemies slaughter the remaining soldiers run through smoke. Arys shields himself burns through the fields consuming Mern and killing the last remaining Gardener lord rendering their house extinct. Allies and enemies emerge out the flames flesh melting from their skin. The two king army's fifty five thousand reduce to less than half as Loren rides to Western portion of the field staring at the devastation and destruction caused by Aegon the conquerer. He didn't dare believe Aegon would go this far to preserve a victory. Burning men alive is a savage way of executing someone. Soldiers climb up the hillside seeking cover in the trees. _

_Armory hoists a scarred man covered in burns off the horse onto a full medical cart. "That's it I cant take any more injured with me we've reached full capacity." The doctor drives the horse into the forest leaving Armory and Loren the remaining Lannister commanders. Arys rides meeting them removing his helmet, "where's Mern and his sons did they make it out?" Armory asks. _

"_No House Gardener is dead." Arys rides off trailing their forces. _

_Armory and Loren witness Mooton and Targaryen forces retreat to the fields other side as Balerion engulfs the plains in fire. "Its time to go my lord." Armory says pulling Loren to his horse, "there are no survivors." _

_Loren relents climbing into his horse, "the battle may be over but I assure this war is far from over Armory." Balerion pursues the Lannister commanders retreating into the forest. _

_Aegon glides above the Lannister army circling around their frontlines spraying fire blocking the escape route west. The frontline soldiers halt falling from their horses changing direction running south. Loren and Armory branch off swerving through trees. The first Lannister commander witnesses an archer militia covered in flames as his horse bucks him off running from the present danger. Armory grunts staring at a broken branch impaled through his side. He slides down a tree coughing as smoke fills his vernacular. Loren rides up hoisting Armory's arm around a shoulder striding toward the clearing in the near distance. _

_Loren settles Armory glancing at the branch stuck between his ribs. "Goddammit my lord I didn't expect dying would hurt this much." He grasps Loren's gauntlets shouting out, "don't pull it out my lord...Its too late for an old shit like me." _

"_Don't day that Armory. The doctor is around I'll take you to him and we'll get you medical attention. They shouldn't be far—"_

_Armory places a hand on Loren's shoulder, "it's over my lord. We can't stop a beast such as that. Even if we run making it out of here Aegon will only pursue us to the ends of Westeros." Armory holds tighter pulling Loren close, "it doesn't matter if I die my lord you must survive and protect Casterly Rock and Lannisport." _

"_You're right I'll regroup with our forces at the Rock and make a final stand there. Our fortress walls can withstand the dragon fire—" _

_Armory rests against a tree releasing a laugh, "even still there isn't any possible way to defeat three fully matured dragons. You've seen what they can do, we had fifty five thousand men and they nearly all perished. _

_Loren bows releasing a low chuckle, "to think we had the perfect plan to overthrow this incestuous bastard." _

_Armory grunts grasping the branch holding his side, "my lord surrender if you have to. Bend the knee when the time comes. If you don't everyone in the Westerlands will share the same fate." Loren witnesses Balerion incinerate the forest hearing soldiers screams through the smoke. _

"_Come on Armory we're getting out—" Loren halts noticing the Westford lord's stillness blood leaking out the branch wound stuck between his rib cage. "Rest in peace my friend." He shuts Armory's eyes sprinting through the rising smoke. _

_Loren rolls out a timbering tree's path as Balerion sparks overhead sending soldiers fly into the dirt. Fire follows suit burning fleeing bannermen as they scream helpless against the dragon's flames scorching the forest. Loren sprints avoiding a flaming tree crashing in his path as he runs past burning men yelling for help. He watches a nearby Lannister flag turn to embers as the screams become distant. Loren glares at Balerion flying away leaving the area content to let the two king army burn. _

Tyrion clasps hands behind his back pacing the throne room. "Loren is remembered by House Lannister as the Last King of the Rock of my ancestral house at the time of Aegon's conquest. He submitted to the rule of House Targaryen after surviving the 'Field of Fire' and became the first lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West. Loren and Mern IX are remembered through the songs collectively as the two kings. After House Gardener's extinction after the death of Mern's nephew Aegon marched for the seat of Highgarden whose steward Harlen Tyrell surrendered without conflict. Aegon rewarded him by giving House Tyrell dominion over the Reach raising him to Lord of Highgarden, Lord Paramount of the Mandor, and Warden of the South. I'd be remiss not to mention the end of this story. After Highgarden's surrender Aegon marched north to Redfork to face thirty thousand Northmen marching south under leadership of Torrhen Stark King in the North. Aegon once learning of this flew to meet the King of the North in person sending word to his army.

_Torrhen Stark and Brandon Snow ride together leading their forces through the swamp passing fog rising out the water. "We should hurry up and get out of this place, the Targaryen army can be anywhere." Brandon says. _

"_Don't worey about it Brandon the Targaryens wouldn't cross the neck region. We know these areas like the back of our hands there's no way foreign invaders can memorize our lands using cartography it's not the same as traversing the land on horseback or foot." _

"_I don't disagree with your philosophy brother however scouts reported the Targaryen invaders have three dragons. They burned Harrenhal and as of more recently the Field of Fire incident." _

"_Its already been decided Brandon we're battling the Targaryens to the death. Our lords will never view me the same should I surrender they would call me the kneeler king."_

"_That might not be foolish brother. Loren Lannister surrendered kneeling to the Targaryens. He thought about Casterly Rock, Lannisport and his people in the Westerlands first. I expect you to do the same." _

"_Loren Lannister is a fool had he waited until we gathered our army we would've succeeded. Loren's impatience and arrogance was his downfall." _

"_Then don't let it be yours as well brother." The North army marched through the swamps cutting their way through overgrown forestry. Its been many years since the North mobilized an army marching south. The northernmost country kept to themselves choosing to stay out of foreign affairs outside the north. The people living in the north consider southerners and their traditions soft. A Northmen will thrive down south due to their harsh upbringing while a southern will wither away crumbling under cold alone conditions aside. _

_Torrhen raises a hand noticing shadows looming beyond the most stopping his army at the hilltop. Balerion's wings swipe sweeping the wind away revealing Aegon, Rhaenys, Visenya and their forty five thousand beside their larger sibling. The northern army stumbles unbelieving three dragons stood before them. "Goddamn monsters...No they're demons. Incestuous bastards won't stop until Westeros is nothing but a pile of rubble." Brandon says. _

_Torrhen turns his horse toward the army, "stay here In going to discuss what these invaders want." _

"_I'm with you brother where you go I go." _

_The Stark brothers meet Aegon and his sisters riding from their army dismounting horses. "What do you want invader? You brought your army awfully far north." Torrhen says staring through Aegon's purple eyes. _

"_I seek to control the entirety of Westeros. Without the North I was told it wasn't possible." _

"_This is what you call nicely huh? Must mean something different where you're from." Brandon says spitting at the Targaryen siblings boots. "Why don't you go back to Essos? What purpose do you have coming to a continent you have no preconceived notions about. Not the traditions-not the customs-the accents—you're foreigners." _

_Aegon glances at his wives crossing arms, "Essos isn't our home we had nowhere else to go. Dragonstone was an ancestral home to us. I don't see the issue with expansion if we had the power." _

"_Its an issue when you burn over thirty thousand Gardener and Lannister soldiers. Only a conquerer would do that which means your no king." Torrhen says gazing at Balerion wrestling with his siblings for a cow carcass. "And them? You really believe you're just a ruler with three fully sized dragons burning anyone who resists." _

"_Does that mean your resisting? We crushed every other resistance what makes your any different from theirs?"_

"_My resistance isn't a resistance. I stand for my people and do what I think is right. Burning people unjustly isn't the way to earn loyalty it only breeds the next generation of opposers. Though from where we're standing your the resistance." Torrhen says keeping his attention trained on Aegon. _

"_The crown demands you stand down or your people will burn it makes no difference to us." Rhaenys says glancing between the brothers. _

_Torrhen glances at his army locking onto the Stark banner displaying a white direwolf on a blue field thinking of House Stark, Winterfell, and the people living there. His army is bewildered in silence keeping completely still staring at the dragons. 'Their all dead.' He muses realizing what is necessary as the King in the North. He glances at Brandon giving a nod walking toward the Targaryen family. _

_Aegon meets Torrhen halfway as he removes his crown settling the crown at the Targaryen's feet. Torrhen kneels bowing swearing fealty, "the North is yours my lord we will beckon at your command should you need us." _

_The sisters share a glance unsure of the King of the North's sincerity. "You can't trust the northerner Aegon he—" _

_Aegon silences Rhaenys, "his actions is admirable. Had he attacked his people would've perished same as the others. Any lord choosing his people over power garners respect from me." Aegon draws his Valyrian sword placing the blade tip at Torrhen's shoulders. Lord Torrhen Stark I name you Lord of Winterfell and new Warden of the North." Brandon glances at the northern army dropping their weapons in the ground unable to believe the king they would die for inevitably bowed to the enemy handing the north to a Targaryen. Its only a matter of time before all he's remembered for is being the king who kneeled. _


	12. Journeying West

"You sure we can't wait any longer?" Jon asks turning to Yara steering the Iron Victory through the waves towering above the ship crashing into the starboard and port sides. The pair sail through unfamiliar territory having left House Farwynd a week prior. Throughout that time Yara and Jon switched sailing duties taking turns on the wheel every twelves hours. While one steers the other tended to the vessel's needs unfurling the sails, adjusting the rotors, maintaining food rations and feeding the prisoners. Neither of the two spoke a word to the pair of prisoners choosing to keep them alive to sail to the Shadow Lands, Asshai.

"Yes Lord Snow there isn't a choice anymore we waited as long as we could." Yara says handing Jon a key to the prisoner cells. Jon examines the key contemplating throwing it over the railing. Based on the time he'd spent around the prisoners there wasn't any reason other than Euron's knowledge and sailing experience. It was the only way to get to Asshai, it was the only way to get to Arya. He glances out a sea once more releasing an exhale gripping the prison key tucking it in his satchel's front pocket heading into the Iron Victory.

Jon descends the stair holding onto the corridor walls keeping balance as the vessels nearly sends him stumbling. He grabs a torch illuminating the darkness unable to see past arms length striding down more stairs. Chains decorate the walls as Jon notices bone carcasses halting a jaw nearly taking up the entirety of the wall. He runs a bare hand over the megaladon jaw tracing a tooth unable to believe there were sharks out there this big. He had heard stories growing up from his father about him and Uncle Benjen catching thirty foot great whites on the Northern shores but there were no stories about megaladons. He turns the other direction finding more bones of all kind. Among them some were human however one stood out causing him to pause. A Basilisk bone structure is nailed across the wall stretching to the other side. Jon pulls out the queen spider's fang out his satchel measuring it to the Basilisk fang noting the snake fang nearly tripling the spider fang. The queen spider was at least twenty five feet the Basilisk had to be three times the size.

Jon continues down into the Iron Victory's depths finding steel bars are placed in the middle section of the corridors replacing walls from the room above. Blood stains the hay placed in the cell's center splattered against the walls. If he didn't know any better he would've assumed the Iron Victory's crew were hauling foreign animals hailing across different continents. Jon sticks the torch in seeing a large lions corpse residing in the corner. There wasn't any doubt Victarion Greyjoy traveled as far as east Essos collecting any and everything that peaked his interest. Jon walks to the end of the dungeon placing the torch on a holder. "You're finally back come to feed us more horseshit?" Euron asks staring up at the ranger as Moqorro rolls on his side listening in.

"No. I come to free you both." Jon says glaring at the prisoners glancing at the key resting in his palm sighing.

"Its about fucking time. Had you come any later

we might've been sinking to the bottom of the sea right about now." Euron rises to his feet halting noticing chain handcuffs in Jon's possession. "Are those necessary ranger? We're all allies here hell I'd go as far as to say we're on the same side there's no need—"

"I can't trust either of you. Your only going free because Yara needs your help navigating through these waters and there's no one else who can do it besides you." Jon glances back and forth between the prisoners tightening his grip on key turning to the exit debating on wether to leave and tell Yara they would navigate their own sailing route to the Shadow Lands forgoing Euron's assistance. It isn't worth the risk of the two betraying them while they had their backs turned to them.

"Trust goes both ways ranger. You can't expect me to navigate this ship being held prisoner." Euron leans back holding out the chains for Jon to see. He spits on the ground making his stance apparent about their alliance clear. He would kill Jon the very first chance he'd get. Moqorro sits up on the cot showing his chains he sighs glancing at Longclaw resting on the leather sword belt.

"You're going to have to. If I let you roam free you'll stab me in the back first chance you get."

Euron glances at Moqorro, "suppose you're right. The moment those chains come off I'll make sure you see me coming before I kill you." Euron places wrists through the cells opening. Jon clips the cuffs on signaling Moqorro to step toward him.

"Did you bring the dragon horn?" Moqorro asks. Jon nods cuffing the sorcerers hands. "What about the Pyat Pree is he still below deck? His presence is essential—"

"Stop talking." Jon opens the cell stepping aside awaiting the prisoners. Euron exits glaring at Jon grabbing the elevated torch standing behind the duo. The pair march recognizing Jon's hand settle on the White Wolf hilt. Euron rushes Jon Moqorro evades moving out the way. He shoulder rams Jon into a nearby cell sending them both crashing to the deck. Jon draws Longclaw clutching the torch climbing to his feet as Euron tackles him once more sending the torch and Longclaw sliding across the planks away from the combatants.

Moqorro steps past the combatants as Jon slams Euron's head denting a nearby cell. Moqorro raises Longclaw swinging as Jon ducks under evading another strike. Euron wraps chains around Jon's neck attempting to strangle him. Moqorro raises Longclaw piercing a nearby beam unable to yank it free.

The Iron Victory shifts rolling the torch across the deck darkening the area as Euron elbows Jon's jaw rushing for the sword. The torch falls to the other side relighting the area as Jon latches on Euron's ankle pulling him to the ground striking him repeatedly. Euron headbutts Jon kicking his chest sending him to the deck. Moqorro yanks Longclaw out the beam stepping to the downed combatants, "cut me free Moqorro." Euron holds the chain link out stepping back as Moqorro raises Longclaw. Jon throws his weight against Euron shoving him into a nearby cell door as Longclaw slashes through steel bars. Moqorro pursues Jon holding onto the sides noticing the only light source roll out of view camouflaging Jon in the darkness avoiding another slash.

Moqorro is shrouded in darkness registering Euron's movements unable to climb to his feet. He grips metal bars hearing movement in one of the cells turning the other direction as a cell door slams shut. Moqorro heaves glaring at a groaning Euron fading into unconsciousness stepping forward cautiously. Chains rattle at the end of the dungeon hall causing him to glance over a shoulder. The lone torch shifts with the vessel's momentum nearing Euron illuminating their surroundings as Jon grapples Moqorro's grip on Longclaw cracking his knuckles. Jon strikes Moqorro repossessing Longclaw holding it in front of him as Euron rises to a knee.

"Try that again I'm killing you both. You're not worth the trouble." Jon strikes Moqorro hooking a charging Euron sending them slumping to the deck. He grabs the torch holding Longclaw at his side waiting for the prisoners to stir from their stupor.

Yara clutches the wheel steering it through high waves threatening to submerge it. Euron and Moqorro appear from below deck as Jon shoves them toward Yara's position. She assists Jon hooking Euron to the steering wheel without resistance as Moqorro is chained to the main mast a deck lower. Jon roughly shoves a compass in his hand ignoring Moqorro's shouts about prophecy. "I'll take first watch you should rest up Lord Snow."

Jon enters the captain's quarters unstrapping Longclaw settling it against the desk. He sits at the table placing a hand over an eye examining the map he and Yara worked on detailing different trade routes to Free Cities across the east. Yara insists Arya is most likely in Qarth queen of the free cities. Sansa claimed it's where she talked about wanting to going most. Then there's Braavos a city Westeros always talks favorably of wether it was because the sights, the blend of east/west culture or the Iron Bank. Either way he can't assume Arya would return to a place where she'd be hunted down on sight by the faceless assassins she trained with. Then there was a mystery place called YiTi. He doesn't know anything about the place but is considering searching there if it will get Arya back. Still all roads point to Asshai a place everyone tells him shouldn't exist in the modern world. Jon sighs pinching the bridge of his nose leaning in the chair. The months long journey has taken its toll on him. Despite all the training and preparation he's taken getting to this point attrition is starting to set in. He grunts feeling the soreness wrack through his body placing a fist on a temple dozing off into a sleep.

"_Where are we going Robb? We're not supposed to be down here at this time if father knew he'd—" _

"_Father won't know a thing. Anyone ever tell you you worry too much Snow?" Robb asks stopping Jon in his tracks staring out at the entirety of Winterfell taking in the sight realizing he'd one day inherit the kingdom his father ruled over since the end of Robert's Rebellion. Since his birth it was common knowledge he would take over as the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North some day. Everyday is different unto itself having been raised since birth to memorize everything about his birthplace and the history of it and the North itself. The North is known as Stark territory throughout the seven kingdoms however Winterfell is his home and domain and we would never stop fighting for it. _

"_Everyone." _

"_Good it means you're not stupid just broody beyond all hell." _

"_I'm not broody." Jon follows Robb glancing at the gate behind them leaving Winterfell's main territory behind. _

"_Whatever you say." Robb gestures Jon to follow pointing to the First Keep located near the broken tower. The keep is taller than it appears afar decorated with gargoyles eroding away due to the north's harsh weather conditions the brothers walk through the first keep's blindside passing the guards hall. _

"_What's that place?" Jon asks glancing at the smaller hall in the keep's blind spot. _

"_Its a graveyard containing the servants of the old king's of winter uncle Benjen calls it a lichyard claiming Castle Black has one located on the eastern road below the wall near ancient tombs." Robbs says leading Jon to the entrance shoving past the Ironwood door. _

_Robb and Jon grab the torches mounted beside the door entering the first keep descending a narrow and winding spiral staircase leading to multiple levels. Jon illuminates a floor containing a long line of granite pillars examining the vaulted ceiling. He places a hand on one of tombs paying respect to the dead of House Stark. "Come on Snow we don't have all night we can pay our respects another time." _

_The brothers continue down the stair passing a collapsed level heading to a section of the crypts where the Stark siblings were allowed to play. Years earlier Jon recalls covering himself in flour scaring Arya and Sansa pretending to be ghost. The days of them playing Lords and Lordesses are long gone. Their father commanded them to stop playing childish games and focus on their duties beholden to House Stark. With the coming of age came the responsibilities of adulthood having to let go of imaginary games contemplating life in ways neither of the Stark children thought possible just months earlier. _

_They halt in a chamber stepping to the most recent tombs constructed after Robert's Rebellion. Rickard, Brandon and Lyanna Stark's tombs flank next to each other having all perished during the war. "Grandfather Rickard a true king of the North. Its a shame what happened to him in the capital. He truly had a vision what would've best for the north and the people living in its territory. A true stark to aspire to." _

"_Him and uncle Brandon didn't deserve to go out the way they did. Grandfather was burned alive with wildfire while Brandon strangled himself trying to free them both." _

"_It's unfortunate what happened though I think aunt Lyanna suffered the worst fate." Robb says shining the torch on Lyanna's statue. The marble resembles exactly like she did before her passing. Ned Stark choose to keep her hooded showing she was an honorable woman at the time of her death keeping her maidenhood._

"_I know what you mean. She was taken against her will by Rhegar Targaryen and raped dying during childbirth." _

"_Father claims she was the kindest bravest person he'd ever known. Our aunt was betrothed to King Robert before she died, she should be queen of the seven kingdoms."_

"_Theon and I came across a letter at father's desk about the king requesting Lyanna's statue to be moved to the Red Keep." It wasn't a secret Robert Baratheon loves Lyanna Stark more than his wife Cersei Lannister claiming their aunt to be the love of his life. He slayed her kidnapper and rapist Rhegar Targaryen expecting to marry her after the war only to hear from his closest friend and confidant she died during childbirth. _

"_Aye just shows how important she was to everyone outside our family. Come on we should keep moving." Jon lingers behind a moment following Robb deeper in the crypts. _

"_Hold on Robb this is Gaven Greywolf the ancient king who led giants and skinchangers from beyond the wall attacking the north." _

"_Yeah he was an enemy of the kings of Winter, lords of Winterfell. Our family slew his skin during the course of the war establishing our reign over the north."_

_Jon crosses arms studying the half human half human half wolf stone face, "makes me wonder why we choose rememberer an enemy." _

"_Sometimes its required of us to remember how we came to be. Without killing Greywolf and his army House Stark might not hold control of the North as we do today." _

_Jon and Robb continue down the staircase unable to see crypts ground floor. "I'm starting to believe Old Nan's story." _

"_What about how the crypt has no end?" _

_Robb chuckles turning over a shoulder, "yeah you also believe there are spiders and rats big as dogs down here too?" _

"_The rats I believe. Arya said she came across one playing farther than she should've." _

"_And the spiders?" _

"_Never seen a spider bigger than a hand. If they do grow as big as hounds I'll consider moving south." The brothers share a laugh as Jon grabs onto Robb's outstretched arm keeping him from falling into the crypts depths. Robb tosses the torch up as Jon hoists him onto the staircase heaving beside Robb, "hand enough excitement for one night?" He asks offering Robb a hand up._

"_Not nearly." Robb takes Jon's hand avoiding the cracked steps trailing him further into the crypts. "See right there Snow." Robb leads Jon through a collapsed chamber entrance side stepping past debris crackling above threatening to fall. _

"_What is this chamber?" Jon asks searching the unfamiliar statues. _

"_The Kings of Winters defeated enemies over a thousand years. These are the Barrow Kings who ruled over an extensive area between here and Moat Coalin. They claimed to have been monarchs ruling over the first men. They aren't buried here but these serve as a reminder." _

"_Right I recognize these ones. These were the Red Kings of House Bolton." _

"_These here are Flints, Slates, Umbers, Lockes, Glovers, Fishers, and Ryders." _

_Jon is impressed as always by Robb's extensive knowledge of Stark history. He supposes its required out of the heir to Winterfell and Warden of the North. "They also defeated the Warg King and Marsh Kings forcing the Blackwoods to flee, and vanquished the Greenwoods, Towers, Ambers, and Frosts." _

"_We also warred with Theon's people the Ironborn on their Iron Islands and wildlings beyond the wall. However we didn't win all the wars we fought nor were we always honorable." _

"_You're talking about the Rape of the Three Sisters. The war on Sweetsister, Longsister and Littlesister located in the Bite south of White Harbor and north of the mountains of the Moon." _

"_Impressive Snow you know your geography." _

"_Its the only way I get to practice swordplay." _

"_I feel the same. Still can't believe the atrocities we committed even if we were tired of the island's pirating and pillaging. Supposedly we killed children cooking them in pots, disemboweled men wounding their entrails, executed three thousand warriors in a single day at the Headman's and Balthasar Bolton made what's called a 'Pink Pavillion.' He flayed skins of a hundred sistermen." _

"_The northern Maesters never mentioned any of these actions in their accounts." _

"_For good reason Snow. Our great house is seen as honorable. Should such accounts be known to our people it could potentially shatter the family's reputation." _

"_People deserve to know the truth—" _

"_Somethings are better left in the dark." Robb says gesturing Jon to follow him out. The pair side step through the half collapsed entrance glancing at cracks splintering above. "Hurry Snow!" Jon and Robb dive out the exit narrowly avoiding the collapsing chamber. _

"_Had enough?" Jon asks climbing to his feet. _

"_Aye there's one more place we need to visit first." _

_Robb and Jon enter a smaller chamber seeing Torrhen Stark's kneeling statue holding a crown out. "This is Torrhen Stark the king who knelt during Aegon the Conquerer's reign." _

"_Do you know why he knelt?" _

"_The Targaryens three dragons." _

"_Thats one reason but I assume its always been more than that. After the Riverlands and Storm's End fell under control of Aegon the Conquerer, Torrhen called his banners. He was aware that due to the vast distance of the north it would take a long time to assemble his army. After the Field of Fire while at Highgarden Aegon learned Torrhen Stark crossed the Neck entering the Riverlands leading an army of thirty thousand men. Aegon I abandoned his plans to march south at once starting his way north raising ahead of his army on Balerion. Both Rhaenys and Visenya Targaryen as well as lords who bent the knee to Aegon after the burning of Harrenhal and the Field of Fire were sent word of his movement. When Torrhen reached the banks of Trident he found a host of forty-five thousand men and three dragons waiting for him. Torrhen's scouts reported seeing the ruins of Harrenhal and he'd heard accounts of the field of fire as well. Some of his lords urged him to attack but he realized that a similar fate would him if he tried to force a crossing. Others of his lords urged the king of the North to fall back to Moat Coalin to make his stand there. The night before Torrhen's half brother Brandon Snow offered to cross the Trident at dark to kill the dragons. In the end the army crossed the Trident where Torrhen knelt laying his crown at the feet of Aegon I Targaryen swearing fealty. For his surrender he was named the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Ever since Torrhen is known as 'the King who knelt.' _

"_Did they ever find out what Aegon did with Torrhen's crown?" _

"_Its whereabouts are unknown. Some say it resides at the Inn of the Kneeling man which arose where Torrhen bent the knee." _

"_There's no shame in what Torrhen did as King in the North. Bending the knee to save his people from sharing the same fate as the other nations. He did what was necessary to protect the North." _

"_You'd do the same in his position?" _

"_Aye I would." _

"_Then I guess there is a difference between you and I Snow. I told you this because its no secret I'm going to inherit father's position and Winterfell one day. I'll have to make decisions that will affect the northern people and their futures. No matter what happens the north will never bend a knee to another foreigner." Since the kneeling of Torrhen Stark the North never accepted another king having chosen to uphold the title of Warden the North swearing fealty to the crown residing in King's Landing. _

_Jon nods offering a smile, "I always wanted your position being Jon Stark Lord of Winterfell. Perhaps there's I'm not and am best suited elsewhere instead of ruling." _

"_You don't have to be. I want you to consider joining me as the commander of my armies Jon." _

"_What about Theon I thought—" _

"_Theon is a great marksman and a better talker. He's selfish, you're not. Having you by my side brother will only make our armies stronger for the upcoming wars." _

_Jon considers Robb's offer leading the northern bannermen beside him. This decision wasn't to be taken lightly and it only dawned on him why Robb brought him down here—The time for playing game is truly over. "I'm honored you would consider me Robb. I can't accept. I already swore to take an oath for the Night's Watch and join Uncle Benjen as a ranger." _

_Robb chuckles clasping Jon's shoulder walking beside him to the exit, "somehow I knew you'd say that Snow. Though I want you to swear something to me." _

"_I'm not swearing anything." _

"_Come on Broody." _

"_Aye alright if it gets you to stop calling me broody I'll swear." _

"_Good. I know your Night's Watch vows will be for life I wouldn't ask you to be abandon your oath." _

"_What are you asking exactly?" Jon questions halting Robb at the tomb's entrance. _

"_I'm asking you to put our family first before any oaths or vows. Should the times comes I need you to swear as my brother you'll come to help us." _

_Jon nods shaking Robb's hand, "I swear it." _

Jon jolts awake rushing out the captain quarters holding onto the railing as the ship breaks through a towering wave making it to calmer seas. "There you are ranger thought you went into hiding the seas are no place for a Stark."

"Where are we going Euron?" Yara asks throwing the map on the steering wheel.

He points to map tracing a line west, "we're riding on the sunset current. Its as I claimed back at the Pyke if we sailed on any other current it could've easily sent us east, south or in circles until the waves overwhelmed us."

"How can I be sure you're telling the truth? You could easily be telling us one thing while doing another."

Euron grins pointing to the horizon farther than the eye can see. "There's a wave coming through that most of every ship will succumb to. Take a look for yourselves."

Yara grabs the scope standing at the railing adjusting the lenses zooming in. She hands Jon the scope. He hands it back a moment later, "looks like any other wave."

Euron laughs leaning over the wheel, "I told you before ships aren't made to sail west. Most don't make it past this point. The seas are a living breathing entity it has a filter as anything else. This wave acts as one preventing dumb shits like us messing up the natural order of things."

Yara runs past Moqorro standing on the ships helm nearly dropping the scope at the sight of the wave speeding toward their ship gaining height. "You see what the Lord of Light has prophesied? We are not made to go against the one true gods will."

Yara yanks Euron's collar slamming him against the wheel, "turn the ship around surely we can out run it."

"I told you its a death sentence sailing west. This has been a short and unsatisfying trip to say the least."

Yara unsheathes her sword resting it at Euron's neck, "tell us what we need to do."

"You do what I say we'll make it through this."

"What's your plan?" Jon asks staring at the two thousand foot wave rolling toward the Iron Victory.

"We're going to sail up it be prepared to do what I say, you included ranger. First order free Moqorro you'll need an extra set of hands."

Yara releases Moqorro running across the deck grabbing on a cannon hoisting it over the railing. "How many more cannons do we rid of Euron?"

"Keep one get rid of the rest." Euron turns to Moqorro glancing up at the mast, "climb the mast pull in the sails."

Moqorro ascends the rope ladder glancing at the wave roaring to their position pulling out the scope, "less than two thousand meters!"

"Rid of the supplies we have no use for."

"We can't afford to waste our inventory Euron, any of it."

"Do what I say or we're dead." Moqorro reels in the main mast as the Iron Victory enters the wave current.

Jon and Yara descend below deck tossing barrel and sandbags through the cannon openings shoving the weaponry out. The floor holds five cannons on a side forcing the pair to work as the victory shakes threatening to throw them out with the cannons. Jon cuts a rope rolling several barrels through the opening diving out their path. Yara follows suit as a loose rope latches onto her ankle sending her sliding to the opening.

"Your niece nor the ranger have appeared from below deck yet."

"Good hopefully they're dead." The vessel crosses the wave's shadow.

Jon grasps her hand leveraging against the planks noticing the wave approaching closer pulling harder unable to budge Yara's position.

They grab on the nearest railing staring up at the towering wave. The ship begins it ascent glides above the surface. Jon unsheathes Longclaw slashing the knotted rope pulling her in making their way back onto the main deck. Jon climbs the railing to the helm directly above on the other side of the stair.

Moqorro clutches the rope ladder noticing the front of the ship break apart sending debris falling toward Jon. Jon evades a plank climbing past Euron driving the wheel turning it a hundred eighty degrees. He makes it to stairs glancing at a cannon prying loose at the helm falling toward him. He leaps to the other stair railing grabbing the loose iron chain hanging off the mast.

The Iron Victory jets toward the waves peak nearly overturning. Euron spins the wheel turning the rotor sending the vessel crashing into the peak. The wave passes traveling east consuming the sea in its path. The victory bursts through the surface descending the waves peak. Yara and Euron hold onto the wheel fighting each other for control. Jon notices Moqorro above praising the Lord of Light. He releases the chain falling on the rope ladder catching its tail end climbing to Moqorro blocks Longclaw's strike ascending the ladder. Yara and Euron battle for control of the ship. The Victory smashes into the surface on the waves other side re-emerging on calm seas.

Jon clutches the railing accessing the ship's damage. Debris lays scattered on deck half the helm is in disarray and the front mast wrecked. Jon notices Moqorro chained against the main mast Yara hoists the sails while Euron steers throwing a grin in his direction. Jon grips Longclaw wishing to cut the Ironborn's head off for putting him through that.

He descends into the victory's lower levels finding an extinguished torch igniting it entering the hull. Sailing the Iron Victory proved to be the right decision due to the reinforced exterior and interior lined with steel between its lumber. Jon walks to the end of the hull unlocking a large trunk pulling out Pyat Pree. Jon settles the warlock the leaning him against a nearby beam. "That was quite the trip ranger I'm sure you're here for a reason considering I know we're no where near our destination."

Jon unsheathes Longclaw cutting the metal handcuffs, "I can't let you roam free though there's no use keeping you chained."

"That doesn't explain the reason your here."

"I heard Daenerys Targaryen burned you alive. What business did you have with her?"

"The mother of dragons. Your last Targaryen family member and sworn queen whom you slayed to protect the North I don't know wether that makes you a Kingslayer or Queenslayer perhaps it makes you both."

"I did what I had to."

"I suppose you did. She was in possession of three fully matured dragons and was prepared to burn down all of Westeros to achieve an ancient Targaryen prophecy. Though I suppose you're done listening to any of those. I gave you the answer you sought. The mother's dragons were the reason we welcomed Daenerys into Qarth and why I brought her in the House of the Undying."

"Everyone wants dragons and would trade their trade kingdoms for one without hesitation. Why did you want them? I'm guessing it isn't a normal circumstance considering your a warlock."

"It started in ancient time's originating at our intended destination Asshai or the Shadow Lands. Dragons were originally incarnationed there as unnatural beasts born from Fire to Flesh. Fierce monstrous creations that were tamed by incentous Targaryens living in Valyria. We were the first dragonriders roaming earth as unquestioned conquerers. The Targaryens stole trade secrets allowing them to be consumed by blood magic over centuries bonding bloodline to dragons. As thousands of years passed the dragons rebelled against the warlocks bloodline choosing the Targaryens. However all that blood and black magic comes at a price, you think its coincidence the Doom of Valyria happened. The Targaryens earned their karma messing with the natural order of things. Daenerys stands as the last remaining unnatural Targaryen in the world. I wanted her dragons to reclaim what the warlocks lost nearly a millennium ago."

"Daenerys burnt you alive in the House of the Undying? How did you escape?"

"My duplicates share the exact mannerisms as I. Speech pattern, dialect, tone and my appearance." Pyat glances out the nearby window noting the sea change from indigo to cerulean. I escaped by not showing up. My clones and I convened before meeting Daenerys in the House of the Undying. She couldn't deny a request to accept my offer to reclaim blood magic into the Targaryen bloodline. Should she have accepted the mother of dragons could've had a chance becoming unbarren and lived an immortal life restoring Targaryens to their former glory. Chose to keep possession of her three dragons not a very wise decision considering you killed her."

Jon stands in front of Pyat unlocking the cuffs yanking them off, "I did what I had to. Daenerys claimed she'd cleanse Westeros burning everyone opposing her authoritarian rule. Would you have done it if someone threatened to take your home away everything you held dear to you."

"Isn't my place to say wether I'd go through with the act or not, I wasn't in position to make the morally complex decision you did. Though I can tell the act of slaying Daenerys hurt you ranger, so what will you do now that shes ruling Meereen as the rightful queen?"

"Daenerys isn't coming after me or anyone else in Westeros. She would've done it already. Tell me about the warlocks."

"The warlocks waned over the past centuries after migrating from Asshai to Essos where the House of the Undying was established. In the beginning we created magic using the essence in our surroundings; blood, black, its all the same ranger. We created the dragons roaming the beasts across the skies when the lands were not east and west but of one continent."

"How did you end with Victarion Greyjoy?"

"I was escaping on the galleas of Qarth when Victarion was resupplying on his way back from the Ruins of Valyria capturing me and my other four companions. The lord captain tossed one overboard, smashed another's skull apart crushing his jaw on the railing, feeding the first one to us saving rations for his crew. As you can see I'm all that's left, no more doppelgängers, no more comrades, and no more magic."

"Why do they need you to go to Asshai?"

"I'm an Asshai citizen having been a nomad traveling to Qarth. I lived in the city for decades making an annual pilgrimage every five years. My brother lives there and is in possession of the three dragon eggs. Some say they're the last remaining ones in the world. Suppose they need me because the ancient city don't accept outsiders. My brothers wouldn't accept a meet had I not accompanied the group."

"What does your brother do in Asshai."

"He is a slave trade business owner selling every type of inventory you can imagine. Mostly we sell to the highest bidder unless an auction is set in place where the top bidders have a chance to privately outsell one another's previous offers."

"Why would your brother sell dragon eggs?"

"He wouldn't unless a king or lord are willing to part with a part kingdom and its wealth. Dragon eggs are intrinsically linked to the old Targaryen bloodline they need to be birthed in the fire with a Targaryen. Lets say a king's servant is commanded to walk in the fire carrying the dragon eggs the dragons will remain remain unhatched. Its the same conundrum with the dragon horn. A regular person forfeits their life when they blow the horn as their lungs turn to ash while a Targaryen will survive bonding every dragon hearing its call to their will.

Jon crosses arms stepping off the post, "you're saying Daenerys is the only person left alive to birth the new set of dragons. Would about me? I'm half Targaryen what chance would I have birthing the dragons?"

"You're also half Stark you would incinerate as anyone else aside from a full blooded Targaryen. Daenerys Targaryen is the only one in the world capable of birthing the last dragons.

Though I've heard rumors the highest God Emperor residing in YiTi's forbidden city is a Blackfyre. A descendant of House Targaryen they were the only other bloodline to tame dragons."

"Blackfyre? Never heard of em."

"Their an extinct house from the Crownlands founded by Daemon Blackfyre a legitimized bastard of Aegon IV Targaryen. House Blackfyre is named for the Valyrian steel sword of the same name. The sigil is essentially the Targaryens with the colors reserved through their motto unknown the Targaryens passed on their traits; platinum blonde hair, violet eyes and the premonition like dragon dream ability."

"Dragon dream ability?"

"They affect those with the blood of the dragon who are known to have premonitions- they're no ordinary dreams- perhaps their more akin to visions of the future or a possible outcome of one. They involve dragons but not always. Dragon dreams have haunted those with blood of the dragon throughout the generations; same more than others. Members of Houses Blackfyre and Targaryen have had these dreams. Why do you ask? Have you had these premonitions before?"

"I have. When me and my expedition team traveled farther north into the Lands of Always Winter I passed out after falling into a cavern."

"Go on, what did you dream of?"

"I dreamed of home. I returned to Winterfell riding toward the gates wanting to see my family. I saw Daenerys riding Drogon burning Winterfell to the ground. I watched my family turn to ashes before my eyes."

"How did it end?"

"I stood before Daenerys and Drogon drawing Longclaw aiming to strike both of them down before I was consumed in fire waking up not too long after."

"Warlocks ain't fortunetellers yet I can tell you it sounds like a premonition of a confrontation yet to come. In my view it seems inevitable since you slayed the mother of dragons."

"Do you happen to know the Blackfyre's sitting as YiTi's god emperor?"

"Rumors say he's Maelys Blackfyre bastard son who was the last of the Blackfyre pretenders. A series of claimants to the Iron Throne of the seven kingdoms rebelling against the crown several times they opposed the Targaryens from the reign of Daeron II. Eventually he was slain by Ser Barriston Selmy in the Nine Penny King War ending the Blackfyre's male line while the female line remains unknown. He fled Essos unable to overtake the Golden Company and hearing of Daenerys and Vicerion's arrival."

"Then the Blackfyre's have the ability to birth dragons?"

"They posses the natural Targaryen traits. The answer to your question is yes."

Jon walks toward the door cracking it open, "I'll bring you the usual rations anything else can bring you?"

"You're not locking me back in the cage?"

"No."

"Something to read would be nice. Anything will do ranger." Jon leaves the hull stepping out onto the deck noticing the sunset.

Yara cuffs Euron placing hands behind leading him and Moqorro to the main hall. Jon follows the trio inside taking a seat across the pair keeping his attention trained on them. The iron vessel creaks shifting items filling the hall with noise breaking the silence. "You want to kill me that bad ranger? Go ahead," Euron exposes his throat, "I'm all yours."

"I'm considering killing you both the moment we dock in Asshai."

"Good a time as any."

"There will be no killing today, the Lord of Light—"

"Stop talking," Jon says. Yara settles food and water on the table sitting at the table head.

"Tell me something ranger. I want to know what makes you still believe you're good? You killed wildlings, your fellow Night's Watch brothers and Daenerys Targaryen. You swore an oath to a new queen in North your cousin Sansa Stark. What next? The moment she does something you disagree with you're going to stick a knife through her heart—"

Jon stands placing a hand on Longclaw pulling it part way out its sheath, "Don't feed into him Lord Snow he's not worth it. Besides we need him until we get to Asshai." Jon retakes his seat digging in the food as Euron grins following suit.

"Have you ever heard of the prophecy of Azor Ahai?"

"Isn't that the prophecy of the prince that was promised?" Yara asks keeping eyes on Euron.

"I'm impressed your grace you've heard of the prophecy. Azor Ahai was a legendary hero who wielded a burning sword called Lightbringer. He or she is known as Hykroon the Hero, Yin Tar, Neferion, and Eldric shadowchaser according to different cultures. In the beginning darkness lay over the world and a hero's sword. He labored for thirty days and thirty nights until it was done. When he went to temper it in water the sword broke. He was not one to give up easily so he started over. The second time he took fifty days and fifty nights to make the sword better than the first. To temper this time he captured a lion and drove the sword into its heart once more the steel shattered. The third time with a heavy heart for he knew beforehand what he must do to finish the blade he worked for a hundred for a hundred days and nights until it was finished. This time he called for his wife Nissa Nissa and asked her to bare her drove his sword into her living heart, her soul combining with the steel of the sword creating Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes. According to Azai's five thousand year old prophecy Azor Ahai is to reborn as a champion sent by Rhollor after a long summer when an evil cold darkness descends upon the world. Its said that wielding Lightbringer once again Azor Ahai will stand against the darkness and should he fail the world fails with him."

The table is silent with the exception of Euron scarfing down his plate of food, "sounds like a bunch of horseshit." Jon says sipping a beer mug, "the Long Night and the Night King came and gone there is no prophecy there is no Azor Ahai or Lightbringer its all a made up story."

"That's what Lady Melisandre and Kinvara said in their preachings around Essos. That the hero who will save the world doesn't exist. I concur with those sentiments I also believe Daenerys to be the one who is going to change this world."

"She burned down King's Landing killing millions of innocent civilians and planned to do the same to the rest of Westeros."

"Thats why you did it? You can be remembered a hero? You slayed your own family and queen you swore loyalty to. What kind of hero is that? Wait don't tell me you did it so you could save your family and Winterfell? You really are a fool Snow there isn't a chance in hell I would've made the decision you did. I sought to protect my queen no matter what. Since I was a little boy I dreamed of marrying the prettiest girl in the world I would have stuck by my queen's side if she wanted to burn down the world. Unless you were planning on betraying Daenerys the entire spying for the queen in north. You are no better than me which is why I'm going to leave you alive long enough to watch me slay that queen of yours and conquer your precious home. Then and only then will I finally kill you Snow. I want to watch that hope you hold in your eyes die the same hope you have wanting to find the Winterfell's hero. I'm counting the days until it happens."

"I can kill you now and save the trouble much as I hate to admit I need your help for now. Once I find Arya I'll kill you afterwards."

"Looking forward to it."

"That's all well and good you want to kill each other. Do it when we get to Asshai there's a long way to go. When do we get off the current we're on? We've ridden it since descending the wave."

Euron glances out a window across the hall noting the night sky, "its almost time to cross to the west/east divide which separates Westeros and Essos waters where many ships from the east refuse to sail to Westeros if they reside West. Every sailor is taught in the east to sail west its a natural direction the ocean flows."

"What makes sailors fear the mile stretch of waters so much?"

"You'll see when we get there. Let me worry about sailing you just do what I say."

"When will reach these waters?!"

"Shouldn't be much longer," Euron slams his cup denting the table, "any of you aside from my niece know why our people choose to follow the Drowned God? Our god is unique to the Iron Islands. He's seen as the creator of the seas and father of the Ironborn we believe they come from his watery halls. The Drowned God is said to have made the Ironborn in his own likeness, to reave, rape, carve, out kingdoms, make their names known in fire, blood and song and holds dominion over all the waters of the earth. Ironborn wish a return to the old way and paying the Iron price. The Ironborn believe that the Drowned God is opposed by the Storm God. This malignant deity dwells in the sky having a hatred for men and all their works. The Storm God resides in a cloudy hall and sends cruel winds lashing rains and lightning down upon men. The Drowned God and the Storm God are said have been at war against one another's thousand years. The Ironborn believed that the Drowned God has fewer power the further removed from the sea they are. Even in strange lands where other gods are worshipped, some Ironborn believe a large amount of men who have Westeros and the Old Gods of the North. "Let your servant be born again from the sea as you were. Bless him with salt, bless him with steel, and the kneeled blessing recipient responds, 'what is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger."

"Yes that's well and good however Rhollor is the true God everyone worships after witnessing the miracles he performs. Our God communicates through fire—"

"Your God's evil. Your God commands you to burn children in order to obtain power, what kind of true God is that? That same God brought me back from the dead resurrecting me after being stabbed to death by my fellow Night's Watch brothers."

"Then you should worship at the six gods altar. However knowing the Northmen you brooding boring people follow the Old Gods. Nothing more than a fairytale religion."

"No. I don't deserve to be alive after what I've done. I killed men serving the Nights Watch through the years. I'm going to find Arya and return to Winterfell. I'd be content dying beyond the wall keeping to the same oath I committed to for life."

"The Nights Watch should be extinct they're serving an irrelevant cause dedicating their lives to an arbitrary oath."

"Its respectable. Its the only reason why I view you as someone worthy standing on my level. I can't comprehend what it would've been like encountering you beyond the wall. Northern soldiers said you returned to Winterfell resembling an animal. Truth be told I would not messed with you who knows what you would've been capable of. The Northern soldiers said you changed after reuniting with the queen in the north finding purpose hearing of your cousin's disappearance.

"You keep mentioning my family don't care if we need you, I'll kill you."

The Iron Victory shifts sending tables, chairs and barrels falling toward the group. They evade the debris making it to the elongated corridor leading out to the main deck. The sky's clouds part down the center lightning hits the waves crashing into the vessel illuminating the trench ahead.

"What is it?" Jon asks holding onto a rope as the wind picks up sending fallen debris flying past the group.

"Its a current trench happens in storms like this." Yara pulls out a compass watching the needles rotate off the axis, "Euron what do we do here?"

"Sit back and watch hold onto something."

Moqorro stands atop the helm raising arms to the thundering sky, "Lord of Light I praise you for guiding us in our journey—"

"Its not the Lord of Lights doing it's drowned gods." Euron grins recognizing the sea split down the center giving the vessel a two way go. Euron positions control from Yara spinning the wheel avoiding the other side seeing Typhoons.

The victory glides overtop the surface as the ship tips on its side forcing the passengers to hold onto the railing the trench has no end in sight consuming the ocean and its current. The storm hastens illuminating the trench's side other showing the typhoons descend miles beneath the surface. A kraken hurls quickly toward a leviathan grappling its tentacles around it attempting to drag it into the darkened depths.

The group forget they're fighting for survival for a moment seeing the mythical creatures they heard stories about never fathoming to witness. The nearest typhoon bursts as a sea dragon dwarfs the kraken and leviathan consuming the creatures vanishing into the depths. Jon stares at creature's size noting its tail whiplashing through the waves before the sea darkens once more. Jon glances at Euron boasting contemplating if he truly was a god. "What a fucking day ranger! What a fucking day!" A wave smashes into the vessel consuming it and its occupants.


End file.
